


I Miss My Sanity (But I Miss Reality More)

by calmena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmena/pseuds/calmena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's necessary to see how much worse a situation could have been to come to terms with reality. And sometimes it just ends up making everything worse.<br/>When Gabriel decides to interfere in Sam and Dean's relationship, he doesn't know – or care – that what he's doing could end up destroying what little is left of their brotherly bond. Or that it could lead them into directions neither of them has ever considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I Miss My Sanity (But I Miss Reality More)  
> Author: calmena  
> Artist: procne92  
> Genre: Wincest  
> Pairings: Sam/Dean (also brief Dean/Cassie, Ruby/Sam, Dean/Castiel)  
> Rating: R  
> Word count: ~26,500  
> Warnings: Warnings: Various temporary character deaths, spoilers up to and including 5x8, questionable consent, (see end-notes of the last chapter for spoilery warning)  
> Summary: Sometimes it's necessary to see how much worse a situation could have been to come to terms with reality. And sometimes it just ends up making everything worse.  
> When Gabriel decides to interfere in Sam and Dean's relationship, he doesn't know – or care – that what he's doing could end up destroying what little is left of their brotherly bond. Or that it could lead them into directions neither of them has ever considered.
> 
>  
> 
> Acknowledgments:
> 
> First off, a huge thanks to my betas slightlysatanic and audreyava. They helped me so much and were absolutely wonderful. So, yeah. I can't even imagine how much time it took to read the story the many times I sent it to you because I'd changed something. Thank you so much.
> 
> Thank you procne92 for making beautiful art for me. Even though the draft I sent you must have been an awful read you were actually willing to work with it. That in itself is a big feat in my opinion. And not to mention the art is great.
> 
> And of course thank you thehighwaywoman and wendy for organizing the Big Bang. It was a great experience for me (first timer!).

**Prologue**

  
Cheerful humming could be heard in the spacious apartment located in the middle of nowhere. The blue sky above it was cloudless, and rustling grass surrounded it.

They were in a special place between Heaven and Earth, where Gabriel had set up a temporary base for breaks from his duties as the Trickster. He was currently sitting in front of a flat-screen TV, zapping through the channels until his two favorite victims finally woke up, because really, even a break wasn't a break if he couldn't have a little fun.

The sound of a throat clearing didn't surprise him, since Castiel had been standing behind him for a few minutes already and had been making the sound periodically, as if he thought Gabriel hadn’t noticed him yet – and the archangel found great amusement in letting his brother believe that.

Even Castiel could get impatient sometimes, though, as Gabriel found out when his brother stepped in front of the TV with crossed arms and his best glare.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, trying to be intimidating – trying and failing. His glower left a lot to be desired; in fact, Gabriel only knew what it was supposed to be because he had seen a few of his brothers try that particular expression out – and fail spectacularly. When they had faces, that is, and weren't just streams of energy.

“Having fun. Now move out of the way.”

But Castiel didn’t. Instead he let his arms fall to his sides and shook his head slowly, incomprehension spreading over his face.

“Why do you insist on doing things like this? Wasn’t that…” He paused in thought for a moment, then gestured to the television. “… _thing_ you did, enough?"

Gabriel snickered, finding Castiel's cluelessness highly amusing, though it only served to make his brother stare at him with even more disapproval. The notion that his answer would probably do little to placate Castiel fluttered through Gabriel's mind before he dismissed the fact, because really – did it look like he cared?

"As I said – it’s fun. Besides, it helps cement their relationship."

Castiel looked at him skeptically and Gabriel scoffed, flapping his hand carelessly. Of course, he had just made that up out of thin air, but there was no need for anyone else to know that. His break had turned out to not be very fun when he couldn't torment anyone, and it was his right to provide himself with entertainment.

"I can see that human nature is still evading you, dear brother. But fear not, I'm here to help you with that particular problem," he added, knowing that Castiel probably didn't have a response.

There was still a frown on Castiel’s face and he looked as if he wanted to protest, but he pressed his lips together, keeping his words inside. Right at that moment, Gabriel knew he had won – and he was right.

Because as Castiel kept running through what he knew, he couldn’t find a reason not to believe his brother. Maybe there really was some truth to his words; after all, Gabriel had watched the humans longer than he had and probably understood their reasoning better. And if it got really bad…he could still stop Gabriel if he overstepped the line. Or try to, at least, since it hadn't gone over so well when he had tried it last time.

His thoughts were interrupted when Gabriel let out a whine, shoving him away from the television.

“Now I missed the waking-up scene!”

\--

  
Dean was and, at the same time, most definitely was not, a morning person. Of course, the training from his father had instilled in him the ability of being more or less awake the second he opened his eyes, but he still wasn't too fond of getting up very early. The fact that he was awake quickly just meant that he wasn't one of the people who startled and almost busted their heads open on the headboard or something. Nothing to get excited over.

It was the same way that day, nothing unusual about it. The fact that he was surrounded by darkness and that there wasn't even one sliver of light, however, was – especially since it hadn't been like that when he had gone to bed. Considering that it had been night then and was most likely day now made the whole situation even stranger.

"Sam?" he asked, listening into the nothingness surrounding him, heart beating faster with each second that passed in silence, panic and relief warring in him. There was no answer. He hoped his brother hadn’t fallen victim to whatever had taken him.

 _The Devil_ flashed through his mind and Dean shuddered, thinking that whatever it was, it better not be that.

Still, just lying there like prey in a cage didn't feel right, and as his eyes frantically flickered around in the darkness, Dean started to feel for something. His searching fingers didn't meet the soft surface of the bed he had fallen asleep on, but instead what felt like concrete. Not that he had expected anything else. He could feel it under his back after all, and the crick in his neck that told him that he hadn’t slept as comfortably as he should have (and that he was getting old).

A deep sigh fell from Dean's lips and he flattened his hands to the floor and squinted into the darkness. He tried to get a glimpse of something, _anything_ ; logically, though, he knew that it was most likely in vain. There was no light in the room his pupils could adjust to.

He pondered other possible causes for not being able to see, tapping his fingers on the floor in thought. At the same time, he kept an ear open for assailants who could try to get the drop on him. Maybe he had fallen from the bed and gone blind overnight. He wasn’t _really_ considering that, though, because he figured that his eyes would probably hurt in that case.

That really left only one possibility: he was in a completely dark room, without windows or even doors, or simply no outdoor light. At all. Neither of those possibilities had much of an advantage.

Then he heard it: quiet, rustling sounds like clothes moving, a soft scrabbling on the floor. He wanted to breathe out in equal parts relief and dread and to believe that it was his brother – would have, had he not known first-hand what kinds of monsters lived in the world. Instead, he tried to think of something he could use as a weapon.

There was nothing, not even a knife. Even his usual backup weapons had vanished. Nothing about this situation was making him feel very comfortable. Then he heard a groan. That simple sound, breaking through the silence, cured him of his temporary doubts and frantic thoughts.

"Sam?" he asked, taking the chance of revealing himself to a monster, even though he knew better.

"Dean?" Yeah, that was Sam, all right. "What's with the darkness?"

Dean snorted, feeling anything but amused at hearing the thin cover of underlying panic in his brother's voice. Yes, being taken by something and left to their own devices, and _blinded_ at that, was rarely a good thing. And there were his big-brother instincts again. He had never gotten rid of them, probably never even attempted to. Sam's betrayal hadn't changed much about that.

"As if I'd know. As much as I’ve seen, we could be in a special-made bunker. There's probably not even the wiring for light in here."

As if to prove him wrong, the light went on, blinding the both of them. Dean was still blinking away the colored dots in his vision when he heard Sam make a surprised sound and then mutter, disconcerted.

He couldn't understand why, though, since there wasn't much about the room they were in – sure, it wasn't the one they had gone to sleep in, but he had expected that much. The room was painted a vibrant blue, almost as though someone had taken the sky and attached it to the walls. Dean could not for the life of him understand why someone would paint a room such a headache-inducing shade. Probably to deflect the attention from the absence of windows or something.

There were doors, though. Dean looked at them for a few moments and then – finally – got up from the floor.

“You think those are locked?” he asked, grinning in Sam’s direction, even though Sam seemed wary of the only way to get out of the room. However, even Dean was surprised when it turned out that the door he tried was in fact unlocked and opened without a problem. A delighted grin broke out on his face.

“Someone seems to have thought we would be out for longer and took no precautions. This shouldn’t be too difficult, then.”

Famous last words. The moment after he'd fully opened the door, Dean vanished, leaving Sam alone in the light-flooded room, staring at the place where his brother had stood just a moment ago.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Of all things that could have happened, being _beamed_ from one place to another in the blink of an eye had not been something Dean would have expected or been prepared for. Which was why he cursed when he realized that he had, apparently, ended up in yet _another_ place. Fate seemed to have it in for him today.

He hadn’t actually realized how _much_ it hated him, though, although that became obvious pretty soon. As Dean was still standing there taking stock of his surroundings and trying to figure out what was going on, Sam came out of the bathroom – but it wasn't _Sam_.

It was a spontaneous impression, but the longer he kept staring at the man who was supposed to be his brother, the more he was convinced. Dean tried to figure out the main difference, and after a few moments of consideration, he decided that it was the _hardness_ , for a lack of a better word, that surrounded Sam that made him seem so different. There was also an unusual tiredness in his eyes, in his expression, and Dean was forced to wonder how much this Sam slept in an average night.

Sam moved about the room, and Dean finally found a word to describe him, the realization twisting his stomach. Sam seemed _lost_ and the longer he watched, the more clear it became.

Shaking his head to dislodge the thoughts – because, let's face it, they were getting _deep_ – Dean looked around, taking in the room and thinking about whether or not it should seem familiar to him.

They were in a motel, without a doubt. That wasn't too unusual, but still, something about the situation bothered him. Then again, maybe it was the fact that he had just kind of appeared in here, after having been put into a wholly different place after having gone to bed at yet again _another_ place.

God, just thinking about it made his brain hurt.

Pushing the thoughts back, Dean turned to Sam, watching him for a moment. He hadn’t yet been acknowledged, but he didn’t know whether that was because he had done something to make this Sam angry with him, or because he was just some sort of silent watcher.

Deciding to try it out, he stepped in front of Sam and cocked his head to one side, getting momentarily distracted by what his brother was reading. A book about local legends, which probably meant there was a hunt here. So where was Dean himself? Because he had to be _somewhere_ ; he wouldn't have left Sam alone on a hunt without a reason. That thought alone was enough to make him a little queasy, thoughts about what could happen if Sam and he had split up or something like that...

He blinked at the thought, then paused for a moment. Suddenly, he knew what had seemed so strange about the room and what had been nagging at the back of his mind the whole time.

There was only one bed.

He voiced it aloud, but as he had suspected, there was no reaction, not even a twitch. He wasn’t real to this Sam, then. There was a mild flow of disappointment running through him as he glared at the lamp next to the single bed. It hadn't done anything to deserve the hate he felt at the moment, but he had to focus on _something_. Especially since his situation ruled out some things, but not nearly enough to be able to guess what had happened to him.

Dean settled for observing Sam, thinking maybe he would find out something he could bug Sam with later. However, watching the furrow of his brother’s brow soon became boring, and Dean yawned loudly, enjoying the fact that this Sam could not scold him for it or glare at him.

He found himself waiting for a reaction anyway, even though he had, objectively, known that there wouldn't _be_ anything.

Still, when Sam sighed a moment later Dean jumped in surprise, then frowned when Sam threw the book onto the bed in an uncharacteristically careless way and shook his head.

“This is so useless. Stupid case.”

Dean’s frown deepened when he watched the way his brother stomped into the bathroom as if the floor had done something to offend him, and then threw the door closed loudly enough that most of the motel guests had probably been able to hear it. He almost felt the need to remark that there was nobody there to actually see the temper tantrum so there was no sense in acting like such a drama queen, but he wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway, which made it useless.

Instead he turned back to the bed where the book was still lying innocently and decided to take a look at it. Well, he was curious, he was willing to admit that, because not knowing where he was didn't change the fact that he wanted to know what Sam was – maybe – in for.

However, when he tried to touch the cover of the book, his fingers just kind of… sank through. For a long moment he could do nothing but stare at them and when he finally drew them back, there was nothing unusual about them.

Apparently, he was just unable to touch the book. And a quick try showed him that it wasn't just that – he couldn’t touch _anything_.

"Oh shit."

 

\--

  
"He’s kinda slow sometimes, isn't he?"

"Now, Gabriel, be nice."

\--

  
In the motel room, Dean had collapsed onto the bed – it didn’t even lower, he noted with a distinct note of hysteria that sunk through even in his befuddled state. Hands shaking just a little, he dragged his palm over his face, sighing and trying to make sense of the situation.

Thinking about it logically, he knew that he was being stupid, because after not being seen by Sam he should have expected something like this. However, not being able to touch things opened up many possibilities he hadn’t thought about before.

He could be a ghost. Though as far as he knew, he hadn’t died lately.

Maybe it was a fantasy? But whose? And really, what kind of fantasy would be perfect without him in it, so that idea was actually not a very good one. Were angels trying to mess with him? Were demons trying to mess with him?

Fuck, there were just too many possibilities.

Sighing, Dean tried to massage his temples, having heard once that it was supposed to stimulate the brain or something. It didn’t really work. The whole thing had probably been a lie anyway.

Settling in as best as he could, he leaned back, blinking slowly and thinking.

Not that he actually came to a conclusion, other than that he would have to talk to Sam about this whole thing as soon as he got back. He would have asked the Sam here about this – whatever it was, but he didn’t think that he would be of much help, considering they could neither talk to each other, nor communicate in any other way.

Waiting for Sam to finish in the bathroom didn’t take quite as much patience as it normally did, though if that had something to do with the fact that this Sam didn’t take hours to fix his hair or he had been thinking about the situation was anybody’s guess.

Even though he knew that Sam wouldn’t be able to hear him, Dean had to comment on it anyway, especially since he had decided on trying to make the best out of the situation – it wasn't as if he could do anything else, really, though it hurt him to admit it.

“You know that you need twice as long as this usually, don’t you? Even though I can see why, now. Sorry to be the one to tell you, but you really _do_ look like shit without your beauty routine.”

It turned out that needling Sam didn’t feel as good when he couldn't hear it or answer in his usual bitchy way. The quiet act just pretty much took the fun right out of it. And apparently Dean’s brain was stupid because he kept waiting for an answer anyway, even though he knew that he wouldn't get one.

Without being able to occupy himself that way, he had only two more choices: just following Sam around like a puppy – even if the thought of that made him grimace because it conjured up the picture of Sam as a little kid who had indeed followed him like a little doggie and it actually had him miss Sam a little – or stay in the room, do nothing, unable to touch anything, just…being bored.

In the end it wasn’t much of a choice, not really. Especially because Sam went to interview the victim (or maybe it was the victim’s parents), and that was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything else he could do, or _not_ do, in this room.

About an hour later, he thought that he could have lived without this as well, because Sam was clearly not at his best. Neither the victim’s mother nor her sister seemed charmed by his usual trustworthy demeanor, which was probably because he hadn’t bothered with it.

He had never thought that not being able to do anything but watch his brother try to interrogate a grieving family could be this damn frustrating, but as it was he was kind of contemplating banging his head against the wall, even though, knowing his luck, it wouldn't work anyway. So instead he glared at his brother, hoping that he would feel it even if Dean wasn’t even really there. Still, he felt insulted, because Sam had learned those methods from _him_. A few of them, anyway.

Now though, Sam seemed to have forgotten literally everything about charming a person, instead being frank and almost clumsy. If it hadn’t been so unlike his Sam, Dean would have been angry on account of the Dean of this…this. Though he still had neither seen nor heard anything of him, now that he thought about it, so he just felt a little affronted for himself. Maybe he would glare at his Sam a little for this later, even if he would probably not know what he had done. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

It still left the question where _this_ Dean was, though. Maybe they had split up for good?

“Did your daughter ever mention anything about being followed by a strange person? Maybe it was cold whenever the person was there? Or they seemed kind of torn up, bloody, or anything like that?” Sam's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Dean really did try to hit his head against the wall. He had been right. It sunk right through.

  
To Dean’s surprise, Sam managed to get the answers he needed, even with the overly-straightforward questions he asked. It meant that he hadn’t lost his people skills completely – which would have shocked Dean more than anything else he had seen that day, to be honest. He was already surprised at how frank Sam was anyway, what with him being the compassionate person normally. Dean was better with girls who reacted to his charm. The cool guy who was great in bed, basically, he could admit that to himself. There was no shame to it.

Sam was able to figure out that the girl had just been lying in bed one day when her eyes burst inside their sockets. There were no signs of her being haunted beforehand, as far as he could tell. Or she hadn't told her parents if she had been, at least.

“Would it be possible for me to have a look at her room?”

The question garnered Sam wary glances from the girl’s family, which wasn’t too surprising considering the way he had asked the questions before. They probably thought he was some kind of psycho or something. To tell the truth, Dean wouldn't even have been surprised if they decided to call the police on him.

Raising an eyebrow, Dean could only watch as the dead girl's mother gave in, though the reply was hesitant and seemed almost forced, sending her daughter to lead Sam to the room. It was more support than they were used to, so Dean couldn't even spite the daughter for the muttered “stupid creepy mystery guy” that she didn't even try to disguise.

Sam didn't seem to mind anyway, even though Dean was a hundred percent sure that he had heard.

“I don’t know what you hope to find in there, the police already looked through everything,” the woman ground out after she had opened the door to the dead girl's room. Reaching up to finger her right earring she shook her head, frowning. “This isn't right. There shouldn't be a need for this anymore.”

“We're aware,” Sam replied absentmindedly, already looking around in the room and not even trying to be subtle about it, “and we're very sorry that this is necessary, but there might be things the police didn’t think were of importance, but might be. I apologize for any inconveniences, but we can't leave without following every possible string of evidence.”

It sounded like Sam was reciting lines from a book, his eyes traveling over furniture. Sam didn't seem to be aware of the fact that he said ‘we’ continuously and Dean swallowed hard, feeling his heart break a bit for his brother, because so far it seemed like he really was alone in this. There hadn't even been a phone call in the time he had been present, not one from Dean or anyone else.

He wasn’t even aware that he had reached out to pat Sam on the shoulder, and then it was too late anyway because his hand fell right through what should have been solid flesh.

Heat rising in his face and the back of his neck burning uncomfortably, Dean refused to be embarrassed by the gesture, though he could feel his body's reactions to it clearly. Instead he just took a step away and hung back until Sam reached his room again, collapsing on the bed as soon as he was there, where Dean had been sitting only hours before.

Sighing deeply, Sam closed his eyes. Even though he projected relaxation Dean could see the tight muscles in his body, plainly showing the strain he had to be under. Even if he could have been heard, Dean wouldn't have known what to say, considering the weird atmosphere in the room.

He would probably have said the wrong thing anyway. Everything about this was a big fat mystery to him at the moment. Sam being alone, hunting alone and being so damn sad that he almost felt compelled to reach out and pat his hair, like he had done when Sam had just been Sammy, little and innocent and not… what he was now.

He kind of missed _Sammy_.

Okay, no. He wasn't about to be all emo like Sam was normally.

Suddenly, this Sam growled and threw a pillow through his head. Dean almost felt proud, because even without knowing it, Sam had good aim. Only, really, it had probably just been luck.

He would _so_ give Sam shit about having better aim without knowing anyone was there than when he was purposefully trying for a target. Later, that is. When this Sam wasn't busy angsting, or whatever it was he was doing.

Talking to himself, apparently.

“Why did you have to do this to me, Dean?”

It was a mere whisper, but Dean whipped his head around to Sam anyway, surprised at how lost and young he sounded. Especially since it seemed that he had actually gotten bigger and didn't exactly project helplessness. For a moment Dean even went so far as to think that he was in a new place yet again, but it was still the same Sam as before, sitting on the bed dejectedly, head in his hands.

A dry sound was ripped from his brother’s throat and for a long, horrifying second Dean thought he was _crying_. He wasn't, though, because when Sam looked up, his eyes were neither red nor wet - he just had that sad look again. Not that it didn’t tug at Dean’s heartstrings anyway.

“Stupid jerk, dying on me like that…”

It felt like a punch to the gut, hearing those words. Dean was already reaching across to nudge Sam, to tell him that he shouldn't be stupid because Dean was right here after all, when he caught himself. He _wasn't_ here.

That fact was violently shoved into his face yet again when Sam got up and went right through him. There was no flinch, no shudder, nothing. For all intents and purposes, Dean wasn't here. At that thought his heart clenched painfully and now he _got_ why Sam seemed so lost.

And that was it. Everything melted together into one swirling mass of color around Dean, making him dizzy and forcing him to close his eyes. For a few moments it felt like he was falling and the ground dropping out from under him – literally. Then it was over and before he even considered opening them again, there was a loud, surprised shout behind him, then a sudden swell of words.

“Dean, what happened? You just… _vanished_!”

He grimaced slightly at the question – mostly because he didn't have an answer. Still, even not knowing what he'd just seen, Dean was more than glad to be back again. This was _his_ Sam again, not the tired, sad excuse for his brother from that other place. And, oh, Sam had asked him a question.

“Dude, don’t ask me,” Dean shrugged, rolling his eyes as if it was a stupid thing to ask. Which it really was, a little. “It was like…some kind of dream, or something. Or nightmare, maybe, because apparently I was dead.”

Dean had to shake himself slightly, just thinking about it. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. With how long they'd been in the business, one would have thought they'd have seen everything. For some time he had been of that opinion himself.

Well, they hadn't seen _everything_ , apparently, because his mind was still reeling a bit from whatever he had just been a part of.

Looking at Sam, hoping that maybe he would know what was going on, Dean found himself subjected to one of his brother's bitch-faces. It was a reflex to cross his arms and glare a little, trying to radiate defensiveness.

“What? I really don’t know what’s going on!”

\--

  
“Think we should give them a clue?” Gabriel asked, happily munching on his popcorn, wherever he’d gotten it from. Castiel hadn’t even noticed, transfixed despite himself by what was happening on television, practically emulating a rock the whole time the Winchesters – any version of them – interacted.

Pulled from his observations, Castiel cocked his head to one side, gazing at the boys unblinkingly. A few seconds ticked by while he thought about the question Gabriel had asked.

“I don’t know. Should we?” he asked eventually, sounding curious and slightly puzzled. Gabriel mulled it over, then shrugged.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt…”

\--

  
A brightly colored piece of paper – a candy wrapper? - sailed to the floor between Sam and Dean, complete with a message written on it in a twirly font. Even though it was only a short note, the mocking tone was plainly discernable.

 

  
_Have fun exploring what could have been your lives if little things had happened a bit differently!  
Oh, and good luck getting out of the labyrinth. <3_   


 

  
Sam as well as Dean stared at it, then turned to each other.

“Gabriel?” Dean offered and Sam sighed, drawing a hand down his face. The reaction alone was enough to affirm Dean's thought and he sat down on the floor, letting his head fall backwards against the wall.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. You took that right out of my mouth.”

A few minutes of silence followed, both of them wordlessly cursing Gabriel and trying to think about possible ways they could get out of this. They couldn't think of one.

“So, what now?”

Dean asked the question with an underlying note of hope in it, despite knowing that Sam was probably as much in the dark as he was. He couldn't help the hope that Sam had read something that could help them now, though.

There were a few seconds of silence that Dean didn't know how to interpret. However, in the end Sam sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“The truth, Dean? I have no idea, at all. The only possibility, short of getting him to let us out of here of his own will, is probably going through the labyrinth, living through who -knows -how -many possible outcomes of our lives, and finding the exit somehow. Though it could well be that there isn’t even one at all, knowing the Trickster… Gabriel. Whatever he calls himself now.”

Even before Sam had finished talking, Dean started shaking his head, drawing his eyebrows together and glaring at nothing in particular.

“No,” he said resolutely, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “There is no way we’re going…life-hopping! Who knows if we’re mortal somewhere in there? What if we die, huh? Or what if Gabriel wants to get revenge on us for exposing him? What if, huh?”

\--

  
“I’m offended.”

“Well, in a way you are doing that, Gabriel. They do have a point.”

“…Shh, listen.”

\--

  
Sam glared at Dean for a moment, his own arms crossed as well. A few seconds passed, neither of the brothers willing to give in until finally, Sam sagged a little in on himself, nodding grudgingly. Arms falling to his sides, he sighed.

“Okay, Dean, let’s say we don’t play the game, or whatever we want to call it,” Sam humored him. “What happens? We don’t get out and die in here. Or maybe Gabriel gets bored and lets something loose in here, like a wild animal. Truth is, we were probably as good as dead as soon as we were transported here.”

Silence followed Sam's words, Dean still standing there with his arms crossed. His glare was defiant and even if he knew that Sam had a point, he was unwilling to give him that.

\--

  
“Why do they think so badly of me? Oh, wait. It might be justified.”

That got him a wary glance from Castiel and a hesitant question.

“You do not actually intend to let them die, do you?”

Gabriel actually considered it and, after a few moments, shrugged.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on doing it in the beginning, though it might be a possible outcome, now that I’m thinking about it…No, just joking, don’t get them out. …I’d just throw them back in anyway.”

\--

  
“Okay, you know what? I’ll do it alone! You can sit here all you want, I won’t just…stay here, doing nothing!” Sam snapped after a few more moments of stony silence.

The remark that at least there was no demon blood to drink here almost left Dean’s lips, but he clamped down on it in the last moment, instead barking a sharp “No, Sam!”

For a moment Dean thought Sam would really stop and it had him hoping that his stare still had it in it to intimidate Sam just a little. It ended up being a vain hope though, because Sam hesitated for just a moment before he marched on, determined to try and find a way out.

Dean sighed internally as he went to catch up with Sam. It was probably for the best, really; after all, there was a devil to stop in their world.

Only after Sam had passed through the door Dean had opened before did they become aware that nothing had happened this time around. A few feet down the walkway Sam made an abrupt, surprised noise and turned around, staring at the door.

“Huh. I guess that means just one of us has to experience a possibility, so both of us are able to pass the doorway.”

Dean just nodded, face pinched tight and he moved past Sam to walk in front of him. Like he'd let Sam lead when they didn't even know where they were.

Dean knew Sam was probably smiling smugly behind him, but really, he'd probably have been surprised if Dean hadn't caved. To tell the truth, Dean would've been surprised himself.

For a while they just walked, taking random turns and hoping they were the right ones. Curiously, there weren’t even that many doors. Dean thought Gabriel would’ve used the opportunity to shove various things in their faces. After all, it wasn't like there was a shortage of situations he could've used. Surprisingly, however, it took some time until they came to the next doors, one of them blocking their way in each direction.

“We could go back and take a different turn at the junction from before?” Dean suggested hopefully, getting a dry look from his brother in response. Obviously, Sam didn’t think so. He also didn’t seem to be suspicious of the doors and what could be behind them, though, so Dean thought he was allowed to be a little skeptical.

“C’mon, it’s not that far back.”

It was probably stupid of him to think that Sam would actually follow him, but he couldn't be blamed for hoping his little brother would listen to him just this once. Dean picked up on the fact that there were no footsteps following him pretty quickly. However, when he turned around to see why Sam wasn't coming, there was no time to do anything before his stupid giant of a brother opened the door, vanishing a moment later.


	3. Chapter 2

****

**Chapter 2**

Sam was surprised at how fast it was over and how minor the universe jump actually felt. One moment he was turning the doorknob and the next thing he knew he was sitting in a motel he had never seen before, stinking of sweat, blood and sulfur. The shower was running in the bathroom and he slowly shook his head. Curling his fingers and stretching them again after a moment, Sam tried to get a feeling for his body, which was feeling strangely like it was not his own, even though technically he supposed it was. Okay, this was mind boggling, definitely. But, on the other hand, it was also more than interesting.

Humming tunelessly, Sam started looking around the room, catching sight of a few things he didn't recognize from his reality. A few guns were new, a notebook he didn’t know lay on the table next to an old, run-down laptop – seriously, what had happened to that thing, it looked like it had been _burnt_!

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the bathroom opened and Sam prepared to be confronted by a Dean he didn't really know, preparing for the possibility of being maimed by his own brother if he found out that Sam wasn't his Sam. Only it turned out he needn't have prepared because it wasn't Dean who came out of the bathroom.

It was his dad, looking suspiciously alive.

Stopping abruptly, Sam stared – only, he didn't. Body out of his control, he gave a sharp nod to his father before he looked out of the window, even if all he really wanted to do was shake his head to clear it. And then everything kind of shifted and suddenly he _was_ this Sam.

“Dean’s birthday is today,” he said, looking at his father for a reaction. He knew that John stopped by at his brother’s college sometimes to check if he was doing okay, but even so it would probably be a nice touch to call Dean on this occasion.

Especially since Dean didn’t know about his dad's visits.

His father grunted, seemingly oblivious to the deeper meaning behind Sam's words. Shrugging, John sat down in front of the table that had a bunch of newspaper clippings on it, his back to Sam. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Don’t you want to call him?”

John hesitated for a moment before he shook his head, voice hard and sure as he replied. “He left. He's not interested.” All the while continuing to read the reports and move a black pen he used to mark things of importance over the paper.

Sam couldn't help but be thunderstruck by the simple finality of the words. It was after a few seconds of staring that he felt fiery bubbling in his stomach, angry offense taken on behalf of Dean.

“How would you know? We haven’t talked to him for almost a year!”

For a moment Sam thought not even that would get a rise out of his father. He was proven wrong, though, and there was burning heat in John's eyes when he turned to him. Sam wanted to get up, use the few inches he had on his dad to his advantage and tower over him, feeling oddly vulnerable sitting on the bed when his father was furious at him. Even so, Sam couldn't help but cower when John sneered, face an unattractive shade of red.

“He isn't interested in this family. So this family isn't interested in him either.”

Face carefully neutral, the simmering anger in Sam's gut sharpened. If he showed his fury, John would probably take it as a personal affront and he didn't want to risk to pick a fight with him right now. Even with the anger more prominent in his father's voice, Sam thought he could detect a minor tone of disappointment.

That didn't mean Sam felt more sympathetic to his dad, though. Feeling like the rebellious teenager he had been years ago all over again, Sam instinctively swallowed back the retort that wanted to fall from his lips. At some point back then he had just given up resisting, screaming at his dad only inside his head, the same three words leaving his mouth over and over without having to think about it just so they wouldn't have to fight again. The same thing happened now, the answer leaving his mouth before he became aware of even opening it, the words coated in bitterness.

“Of course, Dad.”

Waiting for a reaction, Sam came to the conclusion that either John didn't hear the silent resistance in his voice, or he just didn’t care, thinking the issue to be settled. He left a short time later, throwing Sam a reason for it that he didn't catch. It was nothing new, his dad went out more and more often – had done so since Dean had abruptly up and left.

Sighing quietly, for once glad that Dad had gone out, Sam took his cell phone from the nightstand and scrolled through the list until he came to Dean’s name. His brother was still on speed dial, but this way he could think about what he was going to say for a while longer. Still, just by seeing the name displayed, he felt as if all of the breath had been sucked out of him for a moment, and his finger hovered over the call button. This was the part where it got difficult. He had come to this point too often already, only to chicken out at the last moment.

Sam would forever deny the light tremble that overtook his hands as he pressed call and the cell on the other end of the line rang. Sam’s heart was beating so hard it almost hurt, and his breath was labored and short, as if he had run too far, too fast. Biting his lower lip, Sam was just starting to contemplate hanging up when the call was picked up.

Dean sounded happy, that was his first thought. He chirped his name into the phone, laughter still in his tone and Sam froze, then lowered the phone again and ended the call without ever saying anything.

Dean was probably better off without them anyway.

Better off without _him_.

 

-

“Whoa.” Sam blinked at the abrupt change of place and time…again. “That’s a mindfuck.”

Dean must have been waiting for him to reappear, rushing to his side in an instant and looking him up and down; lingering, searching looks, as if he were afraid that there would be something missing or different, and Sam briefly thought that he felt a little too comfortable under those glances for it to be normal.

“Are you alright?”

Few as they were, the words were enough to snap Sam out of his haze. Looking at Dean, he smiled, albeit a bit shakily, and nodded. He didn't know if he wanted to convince Dean or himself that he wasn't shaken up.

“Well, at least now I know why you were a little…out of it, after your own detour.”

Dean took that like a personal affront, scoffing. If Sam hadn’t known better, he would have said that there was the hint of a pout on his brother’s lips.

“I wasn’t _out of it_! I was just…surprised. That I was back again, I mean.”

Sam had to fight back a smile at his brother’s attitude, but was aware that Dean wouldn’t thank him for basically laughing in his face.

“Yeah, right,” he agreed lightly, stepping away from the door that had sent him somewhere without Dean. A light shiver had him shake himself and he concentrated on his brother. Dean was right here with him, Sam reminded himself. He was here even though he hadn't wanted to play Gabriel's game.

After some time of wandering through the surprisingly complex maze – before, Sam would have bet on it being mostly symbolic, but that would probably have been too easy – Dean flopped down against one of the walls and sighed. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked up through his eyelashes at Sam.

“C'mon, let's stop for a while. I'm hungry. Pie'd be perfect right about now...”

For a moment Sam could do nothing but blink and stare at his brother in disbelief.

“You do know that we don't have food or anything, don't you?”

\--

“Indulge them.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, looking at Castiel with mock-seriousness.

“Wait, what? Who died and made you the boss?”

A hard stare.

“Really, Gabriel. Just indulge them. This once, okay?”

Sigh. Disappointed expression. Finger-snap.

\--

On cue, a plate with pieces of apple pie appeared on a table in front of them. When Dean made a pleased sound and honest-to-god pounced for one, Sam slapped his hand away, glaring a little. There was concern lingering in his eyes, though, even if it was hidden beneath the more prominent anger.

"You want to take the risk of the food being poisoned or something?”

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked at him in disbelief before snorting. That alone had Sam's anger levels rise again. It wasn't okay for Dean to laugh at him for being cautious, not when he'd always told Sam to be and never seemed to think about what effects his own actions could have.

Dean took one look at Sam and seemed to be able to read him perfectly, frowning a little. Then he sighed and shook his head lightly, explaining his reasoning slowly, as if Sam was the one being unreasonable. A mixture between leftover loneliness and growing anger curled in his stomach and he glared at Dean for being willing to take a chance. Not that it stopped Dean from continuing to talk.

"Dude, Gabriel already has us where he wants us! He could send a giant snowball in here and squish both of us to death if he wanted to. I don't think he has to resort to poisoning food. Besides, it's pie! Who in their right mind would poison something like that?"

He took a bite from the piece of pie he had sneaked when Sam hadn't been looking and swallowed exaggeratedly before Sam could slap it away again.

"See, still alive!" Dean grinned, expression triumphant.

Sam waited for the shoe to drop and for a moment it seemed almost as if Dean was as well, despite his outward show of confidence. Nothing happened and Sam slowly relaxed, though his nod was still reluctant.

"Okay, I guess you're right. It's edible. Though personally I'd like to not have to live on a diet of pie."

Dean glowered, mouth full. “Don't mess with my pie!” he growled, not even attempting to swallow before talking.

Smothering the smile that wanted to break out at the sulky tone of Dean's voice, Sam pulled a disgusted face at the pieces of spit-soaked pie that almost hit him.

“Dude, manners.”

Still, Sam couldn't help but be glad that he was able to watch Dean eat in his usual enthusiastic way. The short time without him at Sam's side had been enough to make Dean's presence seem almost overwhelming now.

It wouldn't have been a bad feeling, had there not still been the underlying fear of _noDeannoDeannoDean_.

A moan from Dean snapped Sam out of his funk, and for once he was glad that his brother insisted on enjoying food so noisily. Under normal circumstances Sam would have complained or at least made a snappy comment. This time he just rolled his eyes a little, suppressing a tiny smile, warmth pooling in his stomach.

On a whim, Sam decided to make use of the fact that Dean was currently very happy with his food and try to interrogate him further on the circumstances of his own trip, since he hadn't been very receptive to any advances before.

“So,” he started, attempting to keep his voice lighthearted. Even so, Dean seemed to see right through his ploy, tension building in his shoulders, even though Sam hadn't asked anything yet.

Deciding to give up on trying subtlety, Sam squared his shoulders – as if that would magically make him surer of himself in this situation, ha! - and went through with asking, even though he was pretty sure Dean would, at some point, have his head for wanting to talk all this out. If it were a job they would talk to the victims too, though, and Sam stood by their usual methods.

“So,” he started again, voice as sure as he could manage. “You remember more than just vague impressions, right?”

Dean didn't have to voice his displeasure about getting questioned again and, sensing a comment, Sam intercepted it before it could be muttered.

“C'mon, Dean, gimme something to work with, here! Just treat it as a case!”

A grimace, but still no reply from Dean other than a muffled “Bitch” around the half eaten piece of pie in his mouth.

“Dean!”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you wait till I've swallowed! Jesus Christ!”

His glare dared Sam to say something while Dean finished eating, and for a moment Sam almost felt bad for pushing Dean like this. Then he remembered that the both of them were in the same boat and that Dean was doing little to help him figure out their predicament. Thinking about that, most of the remorse faded away like smoke, leaving Sam to look at his brother expectantly.

Under other circumstances Sam would have been impressed with Dean's ability to keep calm, silent and eating in the face of someone waiting for an answer. This time, though, Sam was about to give up all hope of getting any information from his brother. Of course it was then that Dean finally seemed to consider the time ripe for some sharing of experiences.

“I was all ghost-ish,” he tried to explain, wrinkling his forehead in thought. “You couldn't see or even hear me. It was boring... Plus, a little degrading. I think my self-esteem might never recover from being ignored that completely. Even if nobody could see me.”

Sam frowned, mulling over the information; ignoring the last bit completely in favor of concentrating on the important parts before that.

“So you were what, incorporeal?” A nod. “Well, that's a difference then, I had a body in the other possibility. Though I was more of a passenger, not able to control anything at all...” Sam contemplated, thinking aloud. “Plus, I was submerged in other-me seconds after I had appeared there.”

It wasn't too surprising, Sam thought, for their experiences to be different. Still, it was... interesting. And maybe important. Looking up, he caught the hopeful look on Dean's face, as if he really thought the questioning was over already. Sam almost snorted, thinking that maybe it would do Dean some good to be at the receiving end of an interrogation like the ones they'd conducted over the years.

Shattering Dean's hope of getting out of the situation quickly, Sam cocked his head to the side, staring at him with a slight frown.

“So, how was it? What did you see?”

Apparently, that was the hard part, because Dean seemed unable to look him in the eye, scratching at his neck. A shrug, before Dean even attempted to say anything. It almost seemed like he was thinking about what exactly he would answer to make this a little easier.

“I came there, watched you hunt for a day, came back. End of story.”

Sam didn’t even have to say anything in reaction to that. He made what Dean would call a bitchface and Dean deflated a bit, turning pitiful eyes on his brother. It didn’t work, of course, since Sam had taken and perfected puppy-dog eyes to an art form at the tender age of five, which meant he was pretty much immune. It was a good try, though.

“Okay, so I stood there and watched you. I couldn’t touch anything and you were all…single-minded. It wasn’t fun, okay? Actually, it sucked because having to stand by while you got the chance to hunt something? Unfair.”

Sam couldn't help the snort, shaking his head even while he felt pity for Dean. It wasn't something Dean would appreciate, so he gave way to the helpless smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was enough to make Dean smile too, something that made Sam just a little too happy.

Going back to being serious, watching the way Dean's shoulders dropped, Sam felt almost bad. It wasn't like he didn't want Dean to have a moment of happiness, or something. It was just that this wasn't the right situation.

“Okay, so we know now that your experience was different from mine. How does that help us figure this out?”

Both of them sat there for a moment, mulling everything over. Then Dean groaned and yawned and Sam had to hold in a sigh. Of course Dean couldn't even concentrate when their lives depended on it. It was probably God's way of telling him to go screw himself that it was Dean who came up with a possible explanation after all.

“Well, there was no other me to slip into at any point, so that could be it,” he shrugged, making a disregarding noise in his throat. Sam nodded slowly as Dean continued. “On the other hand, this is Gabriel's fault, so it's not like we can hope to be able to explain everything about this anyway.”

\--

Gabriel cackled.

“Smart boy,” he remarked, looking at Castiel, who huffed and rolled his eyes without actually rolling his eyes. Not that this made any sense, but Gabriel did have the impression that he’d just had eyes rolled at him, so whatever.

“But you will help me look for our Father after this, won’t you?”

Gabriel really did roll his eyes, not just giving Castiel the feeling that he was doing it and swished his hand around in the air, turning to look at the proceedings on his own personal TV-show again.

“Yeah, yeah… Now let me watch this.”

\--

“Okay, what do _you_ think we should do?”

There was a distinct note of – oh, who was he kidding, Sam was furious, which, okay, maybe was justified. After all he had shot down his idea of just walking through the maze and playing the game.

But Dean was really not keen on having to live through a dozen or so different realities, just because Gabriel thought it would teach them a lesson, or because it was funny, or any other brain-dead reason he could think of. The fact that the reality he had been in before had not been fun in any way just added to that, as well as everything about this being completely unpredictable.

“I don’t know! I'm just saying, we really shouldn’t play into Gabriel’s hands like that!”

Sam snorted and crossed his arms, glaring at him for a moment. When Dean responded by drawing up one eyebrow, Sam rolled his eyes skywards and shook his head, sighing deeply.

“That’s great, Dean, really. But as I said, we don’t have another option. In case you haven’t noticed, Gabriel is not _here_ , so we can’t really confront him and tell him to let us go.”

“Not that it really worked anytime before…”

“Exactly!” Apparently Sam had heard the quiet grumble. “And the possibility of Bobby calling us, thinking it's weird that we don't answer, working this out _and_ getting us out of here? Sorry to tell you, but not very big. So we can either choose to play this game or sit down to die and I’d rather get out of here alive.”

Dean sighed and tapped his fingers lightly against his hips in silent impatience. He could understand where Sam was coming from, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He just wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know what was in store for him. But if Sam had chosen to go along with this game, then so could he.

Even if it would suck.

\--

Gabriel giggled, causing Castiel to look at him warily for what seemed to be the millionth time in the short span in which they had watched the Winchesters.

He briefly considered getting Sam and Dean out of there, but decided against it quickly. After all, his brother had said that this would help them and it couldn't be worse than anything Zachariah had done to the two.

\--

“Do I have to?” Dean asked again when they came to the next door a few minutes later. Sam smiled a little.

“No, Dean, you don't,” was the pleasant answer. “You could also let me go, it's not like I mind it.”

Over his dead body. He would not let Sam go in another door before he could be sure that there wasn't a vampire or werewolf on the other side, waiting to eat him. Just like that he decided what to do, and proceeded to stare at the door that would hopefully not have him end up at the wrong side of some evil evilness.

“So I just open this door?” he asked again, just to be sure, even though he had done this once before already. Maybe he was more reluctant than he let on, but nobody would ever have to know.

Sam, for his part, seemed concerned. Before he had even opened his mouth, Dean knew already what he would say and did his best to derail him, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

“Don't say it, Sam. Really, don't. I'm not a breakable princess, okay? Plus, it's not real, so whatever. Now get back, bitch, I want to open this thing.” No, he really didn't want to, but he didn't want to seem chicken either.

Sam blinked in surprise at his outburst and without giving him a chance to react, Dean opened the door, stepping through.

For an idle moment he thought about what he would see now and if Gabriel would only have them see hurtful things. Then, though, he appeared in a room and for a moment he thought that it was the place from before again, only a different wallpaper. Different furniture too.

Predictably, he turned out to be wrong, though. He wasn't even alone in the building, if he could trust the knock at the door, which woke him up from his open-eyed sleep.

"Dean, are you okay?"

A slight smile curled his lips, even though Dean had just frozen on the inside. There was no way for him to not know that voice, even though he hadn't heard it for far too long. He still had dreams about her sometimes, though. Not the nice ones, which was a pity, because the sex had been hot, but about her telling him that she didn't believe him, that he was crazy. That was his last thought for a while, because his consciousness was swamped by this version of him the next moment.

"Are you still salting the windows in there? You do know that there is salt in the color, don't you? Because I'm pretty sure you added it yourself before you started painting."

A quiet laugh fell from his lips and he smiled at the mirror, thinking about how lucky he was that Cassie was so understanding. Giving up hunting – for the most part, at least – had been almost easy, especially since Sammy had quit as well. Even so, though, it was still in his everyday routine, the whole salting the windows and doorsteps thing. Sometimes it seemed almost like a miracle to him, that Cassie put up with it.

"You know how it is, Cassie. I'm used to it, it’s impossible to just shut it off."

Her sigh dripped of fondness and in the following words he could hear the smile, long nails absently clicking against other side of the door.

"I know. Just come out when you're finished, okay? I want to watch the movie with you, not alone."

He finished laying the salt lines and left the room, throwing himself down on the sofa next to Cassie, which almost caused the popcorn bowl to slip out of her grip. A soft sound of surprise left her lips before she laughed lightly.

"Don't do that or you can pick up all the popcorn that falls down when I bounce on this couch."

"I'm very sorry, but I love how you look when I do it. Or this."

He kissed her and she sunk against him, popcorn forgotten between them. When they moved away from each other, her eyes were glimmering softly, as if she was holding back tears. She was smiling, though, softly touching his cheek.

"I love you, Dean."

A soft smile spread on his own lips.

"Love you too."

Coming back was like a whiplash. Seeing Cassie again, seeing the life they could have lead had she believed him, just about broke his heart, squeezing his chest until it felt so tight he could hardly breathe. Suddenly he understood why Gabriel had decided to have them see the realities they did. Because the way things could have turned out, had they not been so incredibly fucked, was more heartbreaking than anything else.

Without thinking, he started walking along the way that he had just opened by going through the door. In thought, he was still with Cassie, going over what he could have done differently the first time around to change the outcome to what he'd seen.

Quick footsteps followed after him and, in the end, caught up to him. Glancing sideways, he decided that Sam had either seen his thunderstruck expression when he came back, or he just had ninja-abilities at sensing feelings-crap, because he was looking at Dean with concern. He wouldn't put it past him, what with all the talking that he always wanted to do.

"You alright, Dean? What did you see?"

The word fell from his lips without him wanting it to, a croaking whisper ripped from his throat against his will.

"Cassie."

It shut Sam up and he almost looked as if he wanted to hug Dean, though he was probably aware of the fact that Dean drew the line at that. Dude, like the situation wasn't bad enough, Sam wanted to make a chick-flick moment out of it. He _really_ drew the line at that.

"Bad?" Sam asked hesitatingly after a few moments of silence and Dean shrugged, deliberately not looking at him.

"No. But it wasn't what really happened."

And that was all that Sam was going to get out of him, a fact that his brother was probably aware of, since he made no move to try to interrogate Dean any further. He'd made the mistake of doing that often enough and it had always ended in disaster. Even after hell it had taken Dean a long time to want to talk to Sam about it – or do it even though he didn't want to talk about it. Comparing their current situation, even Sam was probably aware of this not being such a big deal, Dean supposed.

Even if his mind protested at the thought, because with how closed up his throat felt and his body tight like a spring it seemed like it kind of was a big deal.

Coming to the next door much too soon – Gabriel was probably bored with the situation already – Dean felt a heavy sense of dread settle in his stomach and it was probably because of it, that he didn't protest when Sam took a step forward.

"Okay," he said, sounding perfectly unconcerned, though Dean could hear the strain in his voice. Why either of them still tried to deceive the other one about minor things like this was a good question, but he guessed they had their reasons. Even if he couldn't think of one at the moment. "I guess it's my turn now. Wish me luck."

Sam tried a smile to show Dean that it was okay - even though it probably wasn't - and went for the door. It opened slowly and for a moment nothing happened - until it did.

And from one moment to the next Sam stood in what looked like a furnished, lived-in living room.

"What..." he uttered, then stopped abruptly, surprised by himself when the words fell from his lips like they should, even though he was in his alterna-self's body. Only, maybe there had not been another Sam for him to slip into this time, like it had been for Dean?

"Well, that would suck..." he said to himself, just so he wouldn't have to listen to the silence anymore. Since he thought that he was alone, he flinched when someone spoke up from behind him, fingertip sliding across his shoulders.

"What would suck?"

And shit, if he didn't know that voice.

For a moment – a fragment of the second in which he still knew who he was – he felt his stomach drop at the sight of the woman in front of him and he dreaded the memories he’d have about this later. She had been the last person he had expected and it was almost humbling to have his own mistakes thrown into his face like that again.

Then he drowned in the Sam of this reality, and it really did feel like he was slowly suffocating.

“I thought you were out?” he asked, pleasantly surprised at seeing her back already. He always felt a little nervous letting her out of his sight, especially after what had happened...

Ruby let out a short laugh, sounding more like a giggle than anything else. It got him thinking for a moment that he missed the hard, sarcastic edge that she had until a few weeks ago, but showed less and less now. Instead she opted for girly mannerisms, acting almost shy occasionally.

“Yes,” she nodded, “I was. But as it turned out, our middleman,” she grimaced a little, “wasn't so informative after all. We should skip town soon, while we're at it. He might have been in league with the hunters.”

For a moment an inquiring gaze was directed at her until Sam nodded and immediately started packing his things.

“You got your demon under control?”

It seemed like the question was asked absent-mindedly, but Ruby had to know about its importance, Sam was sure. In his mind he was already working out escape routes if a hunter were to try to intercept them on their way out.

Ruby nodded hastily and Sam almost grinned mockingly at how much she looked like an eager puppy in that moment. Or like a small child that was proud of its achievement. Her word simply wasn't enough, though.

“ _Christo_ ,” he said and watched her eyes _not_ turn black. For a little under four minutes, at least.

He shook his head decidedly and looked at Ruby, eyes cold and hard, which had her cower a little even while trying to look like her former, confident self.

"Damn it. And I really thought I would be able to hold it back for longer this time. But you saw it? I was able to hold it up for almost four minutes. Would be enough to distract a normal hunter."

"Yeah, right. Very good, Ruby." Sarcasm practically dripped from his voice and she flinched a little, her façade wavering. "You do know that Dean, for example, wouldn't let you out of his sight until a few minutes after. Four minutes are not enough, especially if you want to come with me all the time. It would be dangerous for me as well as for you."

Ruby looked almost chastised.

"Aww, come on, Sam. I'm trying. I'll get better, I'm sure. You don't have to be so strict."

Sam shook his head and his lips were twitching, holding back a laugh that wanted to escape even though he was aware that the situation was not a funny one.

"Yeah, right. You forget that I know you. You can do strict. I think you might like strict, don't you? I'm coming to think it's a hell thing."

Another giggle that seemed oh-so-girly and unlike her, followed by what would be a coy glance from anyone else, but seemed to drip with sensuality when done by the demon.

“Oh, Samuel, that was cheap.”

For a while, no more was said, as he almost threw Ruby bodily against the wall, falling upon her as if she was prey.

  
Later, Ruby sat on his back and massaged his back, kissing down his neck.

"I guess one more night won't have the hunters on our doorstep. What do you want to do now? We still looking for Lilith in hope of saving Dean?"

A deep purr rose from Sam’s throat as he looked out of the window, stretching just a little as Ruby's fingers pushed deep into his back.

“Yeah. Just...I guess one or two more days until we start in earnest won't make much of a difference.”

Going back felt like being ripped out of his own body, Sam thought. He was glad for it, because this way he could be certain that it wasn't his reality that he had just been part of.

Just thinking about it made Sam want to puke, and it was only when he leaned against the wall to support himself against the dizziness that he noticed he really was back. For a moment he'd thought he was still somewhere in limbo, not feeling anything, or himself, really.

It was a bit strange, having his own thoughts back so suddenly after being stuck in some other version of him. Adjusting was just so much more difficult, not to mention confusing, when he was always himself, just... different versions.

Plus, he felt bad for what other-him had been like. To think that he had put off trying to get Dean out of hell in order to sleep with Ruby...It hit too close to home, too similar to what had really occurred.

He felt a little dizzy just thinking about it.

“Hey, you alright?”

Not even trying for a credible answer, he just let his eyes rove over Dean's face as if he couldn't believe that he was _here_. After what he had just seen and experienced with Ruby, thinking of how the other him had thought that it was necessary for him to sleep, even cuddle with the demon, he needed proof that Dean was actually here and not down in the Pit.

He didn't even notice that he had grabbed for Dean's hand at some point, going back to what he liked to do as a child. It should have felt weird to be holding on like that, but Sam could only focus on the fear that Dean could slip away from him any moment or that he would do something to make his big brother leave.

However, Dean didn't mention it, instead patting Sam's head like he would a dog's.

"Well, seems like Gabriel got one up on you too. That son of a bitch certainly has it in for us.”

\--

"They are right, you really don't like them much, do you?" Castiel asked, looking at his brother with curiosity in his eyes.

Gabriel shrugged.

"I don't hate them. Really, they just remind me of Michael and Lucifer a lot, so why not show them how wrong they are? Just think what could have been, had Lucifer and Michael not parted ways. The Winchesters could be amazing."

"Or terrible," Castiel remarked, in reaction to which Gabriel shrugged.

"Amazingly terrible, then. Whatever, it's all the same anyway."

\--

The way to the next doors was surprisingly long, nothing Sam or Dean would have expected. They would have thought that Gabriel would have two of those at every cross or even just in the way, but sometimes there were just...two ways crossing, and they had to decide on which to take.

Not that this was very easy either, but it was a lot better than having to move through different universes just so they could get from one corridor to the next.

"Why do you think he decided to do this...this way?" Dean asked after a couple of minutes, thinking of ways to distract Sam from what he had seen. Whatever it was, it had shaken Sam enough to have him shut up about it completely and the bitch face had yet to leave.

His question seemed to do the job nicely, though, since Sam came back from his thoughts and looked at him for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, he did have us hopping from one TV show to the next the last time we met. It's not that big of a jump to having to move through many possibilities of how situations could have turned out."

Dean hummed, not even thinking about it in too much depth. He had just asked so Sam had something else to think about other than whatever was currently occupying his brain.

"Right. Didn't think of that. So when do you think-"

His question was rendered pointless when they came to stand in front of yet another crossroads, and they looked at each other, shrugging.

"Guess it's me who has to go this time," he remarked, doing his best to seem three times as cheery as he really felt - which was still not very. "You think I'll finally go into a universe where I got to be famous?"

That got a laugh out of Sam, who had sunk to the floor and was now sitting at his feet.

"Yeah, right. Go get it, celebrity."

He wasn't a celebrity, but apparently, he had gone to college.

He had friends, which was something that surprised him, because he had never been good at striking up real conversations. Really, flirting and talking? About as different as could be.

Waiting for his consciousness to fade was useless this time. He just kept on being the silent observer, even though this time at least he was aware of what was going on.

Apparently he had gotten into Stanford and Jess was his best friend - and wow, wasn't that wrong. He had a girl as a best friend? A girl who'd been Sam's girlfriend in their universe? Honestly, how wrong could something get?

The moment he came to, the moment he blinked and was in a completely new situation, they were sitting in a fast food place, laughing and playfully jostling each other.

Dean felt strange, laughing with people who weren't Sam or - well, he guessed his father didn't count, since it had been a long, long time since he had laughed because of something his dad had said. The Dean who was at home in this reality didn't seem to think anything about the situation to be weird, though, cheerfully joking along with the others.

Apparently, a girl named Silvia had tried to hit on him and he had to say no because he wasn't interested in her.

Since when was he not interested in hot babes?

That was the second most-surprising moment of this particular reality. Okay, he was in college, he was not interested in girls... But he was still him, wasn't he? He still had the same father, brother, all that?

Just then his cell phone rang and he shot an apologetic smile at his friends. At the same time, his heart started racing, and Dean contemplated the thought about this him having a real, honest-to-god girlfriend, since he sure as hell felt like it.

"Sorry, I have to take that."

"Oh yeah," Jessica laughed next to him. "It's that time of the week again, isn't it?"

Dean was confused. What time of the week?

His body (or this universe's Dean, anyway) went to the bathroom while he was still thinking about whether or not he should know what Jessica had meant. However, when he heard Sam's voice from the other line, he almost cried out in relief.

The other him, however, just started smiling blindingly. Dean was surprised that it didn't hurt his cheeks, seeing how far the smile span.

"Hey, how's the hunting going?"

A - kind of forced - laugh came from the other side.

"Oh, you know dad, he sometimes drives me crazy, but what can you do? How are you doing with your finals, aren't they over soon?"

"Yeah."

He felt warm in his chest and sort of queasy. Weird.

"What do you say, should I visit you when it's over? I think I might be able to tell Dad that there's some kind of monster near San Pablo. Maybe there actually is, whatever. We haven't seen each other in...what is it now? Almost a year?"

"Yeah."

This time it felt almost as if he wanted to accuse Sam. His brother seemed to be aware of that, though, since he backpedaled.

"Hey, I couldn't exactly come by back then. You know that Dad was more than angry at you and he wouldn't let me out of his sight for more than two hours at a time. Trust me, I would have visited you."

"I know." Oh no. That sounded suspiciously... Yeah, it also felt like he was pouting.

"But it doesn't make it any better, does it?"

This time there appeared a slight smile on Dean's lips again. "No, you're right. Not really."

There were a few moments of comfortable silence, before Sam sighed.

“I miss you, Dean,” he muttered sadly and Dean's insides cramped, even while he was frantically thinking about a way to disarm the chick-flick moment.

It was especially difficult because he could actually understand Sam. Even with the friends he had here, even just talking to Sam was a whole other kind of happiness.

He ended up missing the moment of responding and the silence stretched into awkwardness. Nothing Dean would've ever supposed was possible to feel in his brother's presence. The thought alone was enough to awaken a sense of home-sickness in him, the feeling reminding him of what he'd left behind when he'd decided to go to college.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean sighed, not thinking about the words falling from his lips then. “I kinda miss you too.”

In any other circumstance it would have felt weird, but the whole situation was all mushy and chick-flick-y and Dean supposed Sam kinda needed it right then – Dean too, probably, because saying it actually felt like a heavy weight being lifted from him.

There was only silence from Sam's side of the line and Dean screwed up his face for a moment. Yeah, he was feeling pretty unhappy with Sam obviously concentrating on Dean's semi-mushy moment, okay?

He really hoped his annoyance translated through the phone when he made a vaguely irritated noise, as well as in his voice in general. “Dude, say something!”

There was a quiet laugh and Dean had the distinct impression that Sam was shaking his head. "Sorry, I was just...surprised."

"Your big brother has hidden depths, doesn't he?" Dean attempted a joke, then became still when he noticed what had just happened. Damn, he wasn't supposed to be able to do anything that his alterna-self wouldn't normally do. And in a situation like this too? Karma was a bitch.

A small laugh came from the other line. Dean hoped to heaven that Sam would say something now. Something long and time-consuming would be best, considering he really wanted to go back to being the silent observer rather than fucking things up by saying something wrong.

Well, life didn’t seem to like him very much.

"You're in college Dean. Of course you have hidden depths."

Oh god, there was love in his brother's voice. They didn't talk feelings. Never. Also...

"So you're saying you don't have depths?" he teased, then froze. Damn. What if Sam did go to college, or had gone? He had no idea what had happened in this reality, after all.

But he didn't have to worry, seeing as other-him had apparently taken over his body and mouth again and the last sentence hadn't even been from him-him. Though, thinking about it, how he had not been able to distinguish between alterna-him and _him_ talking was a whole other thing to worry about.

Sam laughed again and he felt warm, concerns falling away.

And then he stood in front of _his_ Sam again, back where he had vanished.

This Sam wasn't laughing. He wasn't even smiling, and Dean felt it like a physical loss. Then he became aware of what he had just thought and cursed at himself silently. Those other realities were seriously messing with his head, so much it wasn't even funny anymore.

He wanted a bar, a pool table and a woman. What he got was a question and concern – again.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked searchingly, keen eyes on him and Dean could only think about how he was glad that the previous 'woe is me' Sam had vanished, or at least faded into the background again.

"Yeah," he laughed lightly, simply glad to have Sam here with him (bad brain, it must still have been stuck where he'd just been). "But you'll never believe it, Sam. I was in college! I thought you were just messing with me before!"

There was a slight smile on Sam's lips as he asked. "Where was I?"

That had the smile vanish from Dean's face.

"With Dad I guess. Seems like I took away your chance of going to college there..."

But there they had kept in contact. He wondered whether he or Sam had been the one responsible for that. However, he didn't get the chance to ponder that further, because Sam snorted. He seemed...amused? What the hell?

"You were probably just more intelligent than me. Or you didn't spend as much time chasing girls and actually did your homework sometimes. That would probably have done the job."

Huh. Considering how he'd not went after any girls when he'd been there – that alone was a feat – that would actually not be that far-fetched.

He told Sam as much and his brother grinned, rolling his eyes and looking at him fondly.

They quickly came to the conclusion that getting out of a giant labyrinth was difficult, even if they weren't forced to live through a different possibility of life at every other twist and turn.

Apparently Gabriel had really outdone himself, since this could have been considered a masterpiece – had they not been stuck in it.

"So what do you think? Do we really have to draw a conclusion from this or does he want something else from us?"

The question came from Sam and Dean looked at him oddly for a second before he answered.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. That's why I asked. You know, maybe he just wants us to...see that it could have gone worse? Or he'll let us run through this until he has enough of it and it isn't amusing to him anymore. Really, there are a lot of ways this could end..."

"Oh, I don't know, Sammy," Dean interrupted him. "I'm not looking forward to what he has in store for us, so I'm not really thinking about how this will play out."

Sam expressed his displeasure about being cut off so rudely by pouting, though Dean was proud to say that he didn't feel bad. Having seen Sam apply the tactic to people – and to him – more times than he could possibly count, probably played a big part in it.

However, any smug feelings vanished when, two turns later, they came to a whole row of doors, branching off from the course they were on.

"Oh goodie," Dean murmured, his good mood vanishing in an instant. "And I thought we'd get a break. Do we even have a chance of getting outta here? We're probably running in circles anyway."

Sam rolled his eyes and snorted. “Now who's the whiny girl,” he muttered before pulling on Dean's arm, dragging him to the door. “I don't wanna go alone,” he stated as Dean stared incredulously. “So you're coming with me.”

Of course that didn't go the way it should have.

When Sam opened his eyes he was standing in front of a hospital bed. Without Dean.

\--

“Well, that worked just great,” Dean muttered to himself, glaring at the wall in front of him. The surprise at being able to talk – which probably meant there was no other him here – lasted only for a moment. It was overridden when he turned and his eyes fell on the bed next to him, where Sam was sleeping next to a woman Dean hadn't seen in a long time.

Both of them looked... tired, for a lack of a better word, even though they were sleeping. Dean couldn't help the thought that Sam as well as Madison looked a bit worse for the wear.

Looking closer at Sam – or rather, something on his shoulder – Dean squinted, then reared back when he realized what he was looking at.

“Oh shit,” he hissed, staring at the distinctly-shaped bite mark. Eyes jumping from his brother to the werewolf sleeping next to him, it wasn't difficult to make the connection.

“Dammit!”

It made little difference that this wasn't his Sam. He didn't even have to know why exactly Sam had been bitten – it was probably because Dean hadn't looked after his brother well enough.

A soft growl fell from Sam's lips and a shiver ran up and down Dean's spine. It was alarming, the hot-and-cold feeling, though it was most likely because of the creepiness of the sound.

So he struggled through the time he had to stay in the possible timeline, each moment hoping for it to just be over, dammit! Even with Sam's mistakes, seeing this was way worse. Losing Sam completely like this, was.

It took long for him to be released again. There was watching Sam having a steak for _breakfast_ , when normally he'd choose a salad over meat even for lunch, and then there was the sex he had with Madison.

All that was taxing, especially since he had been there when Sam had to kill Madison in their world, almost feeling his brother’s pain, almost (but not quite, no, not really, there had been something in his eye) crying for him.

He was glad when he was finally back where he had vanished again, from one moment to the next. Only, he wasn't so glad anymore when he realized that he had gotten back before Sam.

\--

Sam just kept looking at Dean lying in the hospital bed, watching him breathe slightly, pale and unresponsive. Considering he couldn't touch anything, Sam had come to the conclusion that he wasn't really here - a fact that had him slightly angry at himself, because this? This was Dean needing him, even if the machines and beeping around them suggested a coma.

There was no Dad either, though that didn't mean much, as sad as it was. There was also no way to tell what date it was, so he didn't know whether this was after the car accident they had been in that long time ago, or if Dean had had another, near-fatal accident.

He silently hoped for the first possibility, since that meant that Dean hadn't done something stupid again, like throw himself in front of a ghost to save helpless Sammy or something.

A sigh fell from Sam's lips and he lowered his head, trying to look at the chart at the end of the bed. Considering it was empty, there wasn't much he could deduce from it. With another sigh he settled in for a long stay, promising himself that he wouldn't move from Dean's bed for anything.

  
When there was a knock at the door a few hours after he had appeared, Sam looked up hopefully from his twiddling thumbs. Maybe his brother did have people to visit him and didn't just lie here on his own all the time?

But it was only a nurse, changing the drip that hung next to his brother's bed, touching his forehead fleetingly before leaving again.

Sam sunk back in his chair, waiting. If nobody else was here to be company for his brother, then he would do it as long as he could.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but it must have been long, since he almost toppled over when he got back to the labyrinth – apparently, his legs had fallen asleep.

"I don't know about you, but I'm getting sick of not knowing if we're on the right way," Dean commented before Sam was even fully aware of his surroundings again.

It did, however, keep his mind off the fact that apparently, the Dean in the universe he had just left had been so dispensable that nobody had visited him in there for a whole day.

"Yeah."

There was silence for a long moment, both of them sinking down to sit against the wall.

"You know we could have decided wrongly all the time until now?"

Dean nodded gloomily, then shrugged.

"We don't know the right doors to take anyway. It's not like we can smell them.”

Sam looked as if he wanted to protest, but even he had to admit that what Dean said was true. There was no way to know whether or not any of the paths they took were the right ones. Thinking about that, he sighed and tilted his head back against the wall.

"You think we'll get out of here ever again? What if Gabriel has us stuck in some kind of limbo?"

"We're not dead," Dean remarked dully, which made Sam roll his eyes.

"Yes, I am kind of aware of that, but it's the principle of the thing. What happens then? Nobody will ever find us!"

There was a distinct note of hysteria in his voice that Dean would have found funny in any other situation. This situation, though, made a wave of nervousness bubble up in him as well.

"Castiel might still find us," he said then, trying to inject as much confidence in that statement as was humanly possible.

Sam just sighed and nodded tiredly.

\--

Castiel beamed and Gabriel rolled his eyes. However, he chose not to burst his brother's bubble by telling him that the brothers didn't really believe that he could or would help them. Let him have his pride about being the one the Winchesters believed in.

Instead, he yawned – because seriously, even if he was an angel and didn't technically have to sleep, it was a nice gesture to make a point.

“I'm tired of this for the moment,” he stated, nodding to himself. “A break might be in order, so I can get new ideas where to send them next. Just...what shall we do with them in the meantime?”

Pondering that, his brother made an aborted move, something that could have been either a shrug or an uncontrolled muscle twitch. From the weird expression on Castiel's face, Gabriel deduced that he was indeed trying for human reactions.

“You could let them go?”

In answer to that Gabriel laughed, then shook his head emphatically.

“No, definitely not. I haven’t made my point yet. But I'll send them to sleep for a while. I guess that's almost as good.”

\--

Continuously throwing glances at his brother, Dean grimaced. Sam was obviously at the end of his rope with the situation and it hurt him to have to say it, but he couldn't deal with that. Sure, there'd been situations where talking was necessary...but most of the times there'd been something to shoot. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"C'mon, let's take a break. It's not like the doors will run away or anything."

That got him a small smile, or something almost like it, at least. It made the warm fuzzy feelings in his belly explode and he grimaced mentally. Clearly that universe where he'd been in college was still having some effect on him.

"You know, you'll get a crick in your neck if you stay that way," he reminded Sam, who was leaning against the wall and obviously trying to sleep. Sam scrunched up his face and did his best to glare, though the effect of it was destroyed by the amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, you're one to talk, old man. How's the floor on your back, by the way?"

Dean just grumbled in response, quietly remarking that he was "not old, thank you very much" and judging by the twitch of Sam's lips, that actually had him almost laughing out loud.

"Yeah. For real, though, how do we do this? It's not like there might be...oh, I don't know, a bed in here or something?"

And they turned a corner and there was a bed, at which both Sam and Dean couldn't help but stare dubiously. Finally, Dean was the first one to move and say something, even if it was just to look up and hitch up an eyebrow.

"Seriously? Can we have beer too, then?"

There was no beer when they looked, but the bed was still there and even though it was just one, it was big enough for the both of them. In the end, they were tired enough to shrug and say whatever. This was good enough, so who cared where it came from.

They did go to sleep on the bed, even if the whole situation didn't sit right with them.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"So, what is the point of this?" Castiel asked, watching the bed curiously. Gabriel grinned and shrugged.

"The boys have to talk sometime, and they do it best when things pile up." A snap of his fingers and the Winchesters were cuddling. "Plus? They secretly like to cuddle."

It was Castiel's turn to look at his brother dubiously and wonder whether or not the Winchester brothers maybe had been right and his brother really had gone insane.

—

It was warm when he woke up and Sam cuddled into the heat a bit, because it had been far too long since he'd had the opportunity to do so. And even though Dean liked to mostly joke about it? Sam did in fact have a sex drive, as well as the need for human closeness sometimes. Though he did wonder from where the cuddly thing in his bed had suddenly appeared. Dean would probably-

He stopped at that thought and instead opened his eyes, twitching a bit when he saw that it was indeed Dean he had snuggled to his chest, even though his brother obviously had a hand in it too, considering they were his arms that were slung around Sam's middle - and how Dean could sleep while Sam was lying on his arm was a whole other question.

When Dean started to turn over a bit, Sam did his best to disentangle himself, though it turned out to be surprisingly difficult, with Dean snatching him back a few times. In the end it was just a matter of seconds. He had just left the bed when Dean sat up blearily, looking around and groaning slightly.

"Morning Sam," he yawned and stretched languidly. "God, this bed is heaven! I could stay in this for days!"

Sam was a bit distracted from the way Dean was moving and - irrationally - gleefully thinking that he had gotten to cuddle Dean without him knowing it. Who cared that it was probably Gabriel who was responsible for it - or not - it had felt good.

And the tiny strip of skin between shirt and jeans that got shown off when Dean was stretching was deliriously distracting.

"Why are you staring at me?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged, not even having to think about an answer, the familiar bickering so ingrained in his very soul.

"I'm thinking about how I'm going to deal with you unshowered for days if Gabriel decides to keep us here."

For a moment Dean blinked, thinking about that, then he laughed, of all things.

“Yeah, right. Do you actually think this is real?”

There was curiosity in his eyes as he asked, poking at himself as if to check. Sam shrugged, only barely withstanding temptation to do the same.

“I like to think so. It would suck if our bodies were just lying somewhere in a motel.”

Dean thought about it for a moment before he nodded slowly.

“Yeah, you're right, probably. And he really doesn't seem to want to kill us. That's a step up from our usual jobs, at least," Dean tried to joke after a few moments of silence, which felt way too uncomfortable for him to be able to play it off.

Sam shook his head, but smiled a bit. "Yeah, I guess. But I'd really like to get out of here nonetheless."

Dean's following sigh was wistful, his nod slow but heartfelt. "Oh, I understand you. I wonder how long we've been in here so far? If time runs different in here?"

The 'like in hell' was silent, but Sam heard it anyway. But it wasn't like he would know about the way time went by here, so he shrugged, watching his brother carefully for any other things he associated with hell about the situation.

He didn't seem to be distressed, though. In fact, Sam thought he looked...dare he say happier?...than he had seemed in a long time. A little voice told him that it was probably because Dean didn't have to worry about him drinking demon blood again, if they were together 24/7, as well as the only people around. Plus, there was no apocalypse looming here. A definite good thing, even Sam could see that.

However good things were for the moment, they did come to a door again after some more time spent in now comfortable silence. They came to a halt in front of it and looked at each other questioningly.

"Whose turn is it, anyway?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged.

"We both went last time and there's just one door here. Maybe we should both step through?"

Dean frowned and shook his head.

"Not if it's not absolutely necessary. Let me just open the door, you take the next."

They needn’t have thought about it, because when the door opened, both of them were sucked in, with no choice but to go with the flow.

\--

Dean's first thought in the new universe was simply the lingering one from before, about how Sam had been right and they had to open it together.

His second thought was about how weird the situation they were in was. Sure, they were in a motel once more - one of those kitschy ones, with flower bedspreads and pink, of all colors. Obviously there had been a low number of rooms available, since they actually had a king. And wow, if that wouldn't give off the wrong vibe to the clerk.

And wow, it was weird to be talking without noticing it, because apparently his mouth had moved all the while and he hadn't even listened to himself! With that thought, his consciousness faded into nothingness for a while.

Behind him, he could feel Sam lying on the bed, even though he knew that his brother was trying very hard to project how annoyed he was with Dean. It was working, but nobody had to know about that. So he let Sam concentrate on his book about...swamp monsters, or something like that, while he himself sat at the lone chair to the table where all their guns were lying, as well as a few of their knives. For once, though, cleaning took longer than ever before and wasn't half as enjoyable as usual.

"C'mon, Sammy, you know you want to see me handle the guns," he tried to get Sam to react, putting a sleazy tone in his voice, as well as what he knew to be an obnoxious eyebrow wriggle.

Sam didn't seem to be amused, keeping quiet and continuing to read. Dean was a little disappointed because for once cleaning guns was boring and that was weird, because as far as he could remember he had never been bored by his guns. Even though that sounded vaguely dirty at that moment.

“Sammy,” he wheedled, in hope of getting something from him. Though what he did get wasn't enough at all.

Sam just rolled his eyes and snorted softly, ignoring him otherwise still and Dean whined, though he would deny the pleading tone of it until forever.

"Help me with this! Come on, you know you want to."

Apparently, Sam didn't, because he kept on reading and ignoring him and with a huff Dean went back to cleaning and oiling the guns and then washing the knives with holy water, hoping to fend off whatever chose to attack them next.

It took surprisingly long until everything was done and Dean was mildly surprised at his own impatience, even though he knew why, after all. He just had never thought he would be able to not enjoy taking his time with the weapons. Considering their lives were on the line, and they could never be too cautious with the work they did, he should probably have been even more thorough than he was being, but today, he just...couldn’t. Mentally apologizing to his poor weapons he deciding on going over everything a little later once more. Now he just couldn't take his time, though.

As soon as he was done(-ish), he leaned back in his chair and winked at Sam, who had still not looked up from whatever he was reading.

"Sammy, I'm finished!" he sing-songed and grinned. His brother didn't react, though and Dean pouted, feeling a little put out. He had tried! "You're not really still angry at me because of that waitress, are you?"

The eyes that peeked over the book for a moment were heated and a warm bubble awoke in his belly. So he had really been jealous of a waitress? That thought alone had Dean laughing almost hysterically.

"You're seriously jealous?"

A little blush on Sam's face had him cheer internally. Right answer, one hundred points to him! With all the cuteness his brother was displaying at the moment, Dean was unable to not needle him a little.

"Honestly, you're still the prettiest to me, princess. I was just flirting!"

And back was the Sam he was so used to, growling and finally laying the book facedown onto the bedspread. Getting up, Dean felt another twist in his belly at the way Sam stalked up to him and just loomed – and shit, he was surprised at how big Sam had gotten every time. Really, when had that happened?

"That was not just flirting, you were flaunting it in my face. And don't think I don't know what you're doing. But trust me, tempting me with this is not worth the trouble you are in from me afterwards."

Dean swallowed convulsively at the implied promise, but tried to grin obnoxiously at his brother anyway.

"Well, I think it did work for now, so yay me, right?"

Another growl and another heated wave in his belly and his brother pushed him against the wall. And, oh, he was _so_ not resisting that, not when he was finally getting Sam to just take what he wanted. Especially since the forcefulness he displayed went straight to his cock – like Sam's hand in that moment.

And suddenly Dean was conscious of what was happening, even though he still couldn't take control. For a moment, he was thrown, then he was simply begging – mentally – to be put out of consciousness for this again, because he didn't really want to be part of the wrongness of the situation so directly. Even if it was hot – just objectively, of course. Or something like that.

Altogether, it was not being in his own mind right then that was the most fucked up and for a moment he thought about Sam in other-Sam's head and felt sympathy for him.

God, this was so fucked up. He took everything back; Gabriel was a kinky son of a bitch and obviously had it in for them. Right now would be the _perfect_ time to get them out of this universe, pretty please?

Only, of course it didn't work like that. It was probably just getting to be funny for that prick. Or he had forgotten them in here.

A moan was ripped out of his throat at the touch of Sam's hand on his ass - and wow, wasn't there something wrong about that sentence? Anyway, obviously other-him had been relieved of morals or something like that, since Dean seemed to have no problem with touching his little brother like that.

Sam, in turn - this Sam, not his Sam - didn't seem to be awkward with the situation either, though, since he had opened his jeans in quick, competent movements – if it wasn't wrong to see his brother in a situation like that, he didn't know what was – and pretty much gone to town on his dick.

"Fuck..."

Okay, that was his sex voice. And he was getting to be really freaked out by how not freaked out this him was. Hello, brothers! Had they taken those...fan things from a while back a little too literally?

"C'mon, Dean," growled Sam again - and okay, apparently that was his brother's sex voice and that was wrong but strangely hot. He'd make his brain shut up now, because that thought was so not his to think.

Tumbling down on the bed, Dean ended up under Sam, clutching at his shoulders like they were a lifeline. He grimaced mentally, because all else aside - why did he have to be so needy? Seriously, this Dean was acting like a girl and if that wasn't a reason for why this could absolutely not be real, he didn't know. Ah, next to the incest of course.

Apparently, though, he had had this Dean pegged wrongly, because a move later the places had turned and he was on top, pinning Sam to the bed, grinning down at him.

"Heya Sammy."

He could almost think they had only been wrestling or something, but the next movement negated that. Stretching a little so Dean could kiss him for a moment, Sam smiled one of his happy smiles back. And even though the situation was all wrong, Dean melted a bit on the inside, because it had been so long since he had seen Sam smile like this. And even though it wasn't really his Sam doing the smiling, it was exactly Sam's smile, still the one he had seen so often when they had only been kids.

And wow, wasn't he getting mushy.

Apparently the short moment in which he'd thought about Sam's smile had been enough for alter-them to get rid of their clothing, shedding everything to the floor.

Uh...

And they were back to the labyrinth, both of them a bit breathless and at least Dean a little bit turned on - though completely against his own wishes, of course.

"Okay, so it seems like both of us did have to go through that..." Sam said awkwardly, and even that remark felt forced, not the self-righteous 'told you so' that would have been said in any other situation.

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, knowing exactly how Sam was feeling, thus choosing not to comment on it, because what they had seen? Was better off forgotten.

\--

"This is enough, brother. Let them out."

Castiel had finally spoken up and gotten him to interrupt his current play. Gabriel pouted.

"But I did stop when you said I had to."

There was the baffling need to slap his brother, Castiel noticed. A strikingly human urge. Violence would not be the way to overcome this, though, so he just shook his head resolutely.

"Yes, because you are truly going too far. I would really prefer if you would just let them out now. They have gone through enough, don't you see?"

"Aww, come on, dear brother. Just a few more."

There were a few seconds of silence, then a sigh that was go-ahead enough for Gabriel.

“Just give them time to rest as well, okay? We don't want to break them, it should be help.”

“They can take a break whenever they want to. I'm not forcing them to go ahead.”

A second of silence, then Castiel...shuffled weirdly.

“Is there even an exit for them to find?”

“Uh...not exactly...”

\--

Sam and Dean came to the same decision because they obviously deserved a break after what they'd just lived through.

"Do you think this is a good sign or a bad one?" Sam asked thoughtfully, leaning against the wall. He kept watching their surroundings, not trusting the quiet. It wasn't like Gabriel to let them just...be. It was making him a little twitchy.

Dean shrugged and kept pacing. He didn't seem too concerned about the break of character and instead went with it, but his limbs refused to keep still anyway.

"I don't know. Whatever this is, I’d like it to be over anyway," he said, then tripped over nothing at all, almost ending up on the floor.

Sam snickered.

"Seems like he took offense at that," he remarked, poking at Dean, who growled in response. Sam just smiled broadly, as if there wasn't a bother in the world, and Dean felt strangely queasy for a moment. He refused to think about why that was, but Sam continued to talk anyway.

"So, what do you think, should we go ahead or should we take a break? I feel like I'm going crazy in here anyway, so I guess there's no way waiting could be any worse." Sam snorted at the last part, shrugging.

Dean could only second that sentiment. The constant changes between possibilities, feelings, people had him slowly going insane too, or at least he was starting to feel that way, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

It was just that all the worlds he had been in by now were starting to blur into each other and he had difficulties deciding what was real and what was not. It was one reason why he decided that Sam's proposition was a good one, that waiting seemed like the right thing to do. If it had been just him, he would probably have just sat down and waited for some time right from the start. Even an angel was bound to get bored at some point, wasn't he?

Only, with Gabriel one never knew, which meant that it was probably better not to count on it.

"So, what have you seen so far anyway?" Sam asked then, surprising Dean, who had thought that the topic was settled. He shrugged.

"You know about me being in college and you were just with me a few moments ago so you know about that. The others...well, you were with Madison in one of those."

Sam nodded slowly and it seemed like he was deep in thought.

"So they really are other possibilities, real possibilities, huh?" he asked Dean, who felt uncomfortable at the other end of Sam's inquiring gaze. Again he shrugged, fingering at a hole in his jeans.

"Don't know, we'll have to ask Gabriel about that if we ever see him again. They might just be, or he could've looked into our minds and gone from there."

“Yeah, right,” Sam smiled brightly, suddenly optimistic again. “We can ask him when we find him, maybe. First we've gotta get out of here, though. Ready to go?"

Dean felt as if he had just missed something immensely important, then bristled at having been forced to talk about his experiences and Sam thinking he could get out of it, himself.

"You haven't told me what you have seen so far!"

There was an uncomfortable laugh from his brother, followed by a short summary of what he'd been through, though to Dean it felt more like skimming than anything else. He was only letting it go because he was that awesome of a brother.

Then they went ahead, looking for the next doors, crosses, whatever. They really just wanted to get out of the damn labyrinth that was so taxing for both of them.

When they did get to the next door, Sam didn't even hesitate; he just went ahead and opened it. Dean would have liked to protest against that, but his brother had vanished before he even got to say something about it being his turn. He sighed and stared where his brother had been just a second ago.

From experience he knew that he wouldn't have to wait too long until Sam would appear again. It was never too long, even if it seemed so in the alternate world. The time was just a few minutes here, confirming their thoughts that time ran differently in this maze. Though maybe it went by differently in the other realities as well and time on earth was different again?

Who the hell cared about that anyway...

\--

Sam was looking around to try to get a grip on the situation. It felt strangely like he'd done nothing but that in the last few days - hours? - but not knowing what else to do.

Surprisingly, he hadn't ended up in a random motel this time around, but instead in what looked suspiciously like the roadhouse. What was he doing here?

A knock on the door sounded and he answered cheerfully, still thinking about the A he had gotten back in calculus that day. It seemed like he really would be able to go to college without problems – though he had always been the only one to doubt that.

"Sam, come on, now!" he heard Jo's wheedling voice. "Mom has the food ready and I want to eat now!"

Laughing a bit at her impatience he closed the books in front of him and got up.

"Yeah yeah, right. I'll be down in a minute."

Of course it wasn't even that long, because Sam himself was pretty hungry too, his stomach growling and demanding food. It seemed that was the only thing it ever did nowadays.

Still smiling, he sat down at the table with Ellen and Jo, grinning when the former winked at him while Jo was bitching about having wanted to start eating half an hour ago, already. Altogether, he felt light, like nothing could get him down at the moment, like nothing could bother him. He could be pretty sure about going to the college he wanted to go to after this year and he had a family around him. There was no reason why it should feel so surprising to him, but somehow, somewhere in him, it did.

"You have any more dreams?" Jo asked curiously in that moment, referring to the pictures of blood and fire that he had seen a few times and he shook his head.

"Haven't. Probably had something to do with Winchester coming by anyway."

He saw the glance Ellen and Jo traded, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to know anyway, so he didn't ask.

"You know that he isn't actually responsible for you seeing things, do you?"

He shrugged. "Well, they randomly happen, yeah. But they mostly happen around him and I really don't like him anyway, so who needs a real reason."

Ellen smiled faintly. "You can't hate him for something his father was responsible for."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, no. Actually, I can. Also, he hit on Jo, which is so not right. Considering I have two reasons to hate him? Yeah, I really think I am entitled."

Ellen shook her head slightly but didn't say anything, instead gave him more rice and changed the subject.

"You'll eat me out of house and home one of these days, boy," she remarked fondly and Sam smiled up at her, teasing laughter in his voice.

"I'm sorry, but it's so good!"

Jo coughed something that sounded vaguely like 'suck-up', but Sam couldn't be sure and Ellen was looking at her with a tiny glare anyway, so whatever. It really was good, so he wasn't even sucking up. What he could remember of his childhood - before he had come to this place - he had not been fed so well, more like microwave meals and random diner food. He would have probably died from a heart attack at twenty-three, had he continued to live like that.

From those memories he got the distinct impression that all those years ago, life hadn't been good. He didn't know who his parents were, only what Ellen had told him when she'd decided he was old enough to know what little she was aware of.

He had been left here.

For that, he kind of hated his family, even though he didn't even know who they were. But they had just... up and left and that was not something he could simply forgive, especially if nobody had ever come by to check on him or anything. And Ellen would have told him if his real parents had stopped by at some point.

He was sure of that. Well, mostly sure.

A slight cough from the front door had him come up from his thoughts and he scowled slightly when he saw Dean Winchester standing there.

Rolling his eyes when he was greeted by a broad smile, Sam leaned against the bar opposite Dean, looking at him, head cocked to the side.

“Where's your dad, he not with you today?"

For a moment it seemed like Dean didn't even think him worthy of an answer, then he shook his head no, at least. It was then that Sam noticed the deep, bloody scratches on the other man's cheek.

There was a strange flare of concern in his belly, one he couldn't seem to control and he was tempted to ask what had happened, but was able to hold himself back at the last possible moment. Instead, he didn't even ask, just looked at the tired lines of the other man's face and decided that it looked like whiskey was in order.

He seemed to be right, because Dean even gave him a slight smile, one that he couldn't help but respond to.

Sitting down, leaning on his elbows on the other side of the counter, he watched the hunter drink the alcohol and clutch at the glass as if it was his lifeline.

"You okay?" he asked and surprised himself with how much he actually meant the question. He seemed to surprise Dean with the earnestness in his voice too, since he looked up from his contemplation of the glass.

"Yeah, yeah, of course."

Dean's smile was brave but it wasn't truthful, something Sam picked up on right that moment. He huffed slightly, a bit offended that Dean really thought he could lie to him that easily.

"You know, if you don't wanna tell me you just have to say so. I'm not forcing you. I just thought you might wanna talk about it, since hunters aren't exactly a chatty bunch and everybody has to get something off their backs sometimes."

Dean hesitated, but did set down his glass with finality.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded, obviously trying to talk himself into it. It was enough to give Sam a hint that whatever would be coming, it wasn't something Dean wished to be confronted with and obviously it was something the man would rather have pushed under the carpet than deal with - something most hunters were comfortable with, which Sam didn't actually understand.

Even Ellen was like that sometimes. He guessed it was hereditary for hunters or something, which actually made him glad that he wasn't one of them, for once.

"You know, you don't have to tell me, right?" he asked again, which in turn garnered him a glare from Dean.

"Yeah, genius, I got that from you saying it. Even if you obviously think so, I'm not stupid."

Sam wanted to say that he didn't think he was, but Dean didn't exactly give him the time to explain himself. Instead he continued right away and it seemed like he didn't want to give himself the option to think about the words falling from his lips.

"Anyway, my dad and I, we had some kind of...run-in with a demon we've been hunting for a while."

Dean swallowed convulsively and that, as well as the story captured Sam's attention.

"And we had it in a devil's trap, you know, all ready to be killed... But it must have had some kind of help, because one moment he was there and next everything kind of... exploded and it was in my dad."

He shuddered and Sam actually felt sorry with him. Not a bit of a chore, really, because right that moment Dean did seem ready to cry. Not that he would let a tear fall, actually, because apparently that was also something most hunters had in common. Some sort of no-crying rule.

During Sam's thoughts, Dean had caught himself and was now continuing.

"We had that gun, it's supposed to kill everything and Dad told me to... before, you know? Before we actually went to the house, he told me that, in case something like that happened, I should kill him with it, because if I shoot him with it, the demon will also die."

"And did you do it?" Sam asked gently. There was a moment of silence, in which Dean seemed to try to control himself, getting himself together. Then he shook his head.

"No. I couldn't do it. I mean, it's...it's my dad. He's the only thing I've got left after..."

He cut off abruptly and Sam frowned, feeling oddly as if something was being kept from him.

"After?"

There were a few seconds of silence, before the croaky voice of the hunter broke through it, words that felt heavy with implications that Sam couldn't, for the life of him, figure out.

“After a demon took my brother away from me.”

Dean watched him keenly, but Sam couldn't think of anything but the guilt he felt for hating Dean when he'd lost his mother and his brother. Still, it was a relief when the sharp gaze finally left him again, the change almost bodily noticeable.

His eyes trained on the opposite wall, Dean looked a bit like someone had kicked his dog, Sam thought irrationally. Which was probably why he asked the next question without thinking about it, not considering that it had the potential of fucking up their kind-of truce.

"So, what did you do, after not shooting your Dad?"

Dean shrugged uncomfortably, and the way he drew his eyebrows together telling Sam he didn't like the situation. He started talking without having to be prompted first, though.

"Well, I did get a bit banged up before help came in the form of Bobby. You know Bobby, right?"

Sam nodded. Who _didn't_ know Bobby in their line of business?

Dean nodded as well, unconsciously copying him before looking at his hands and frowning thoughtfully.

"Well, he did an exorcism or something and the demons left. Dad is recovering now, but..." and at that he swallowed again and tried for another smile. "He doesn't really want to see me right now."

Sam felt as if his whole world fell out from under him at that.

"Your Dad doesn't want to see you because you _didn't_ shoot him?"

Dean tried for a careless shrug, smiling an almost painful-looking smile. "No, not for not shooting him. For not shooting the bastard that's responsible for my mother's death."

Still, Sam couldn't understand John's reasoning. "Well, the demon's death would have meant his death as well", he remarked.

That actually forced a laugh out of Dean's mouth – pretty mouth, Sam’s brain remarked, but was violently squashed, because dude, so not the time! – and it wasn't a happy sound.

"Yeah, I just don't think Dad sees it like that. I mean he's been hunting the thing for years now and I guess having it in his hands and then his own son fucking everything up? Not the best outcome in his mind."

"So you thought you'd get out of the way for the time being?" Sam asked softly, trying for his best worried expression. It seemed to work so well that Dean seemed almost embarrassed - not something Sam had been looking to accomplish, but not bad in its own right.

"Yeah, I thought it would be best for a while."

And suddenly he was back in the labyrinth, where Dean was already looking at him in barely- concealed disapproval.

“That was supposed to be my turn,” he remarked and Sam didn't have the strength to fight about that now, just motioning for him to go on, if he wanted to.

\--

Dean didn't think anything was different from usual when he turned up in a motel. There were Sam's clothes, there were his own, he could touch things and he could actually control the body of his host, or whatever it was. At least until Castiel popped into the room.

Dean wanted to ask what he was doing there, why he had so suddenly appeared, but alter-him obviously wasn't that surprised and instead of confusion he was swamped by happiness. God, and he was _sappy_ , of all things! This possibility sucked already...

It sucked all the more when he and Castiel actually hugged and then they kissed – _sucked face_ , his mind helpfully supplied – and god, he didn't want to know any more about this particular possibility.

For once, his wish was granted, because he was back with Sam again.

\--

"Gabriel!"

The archangel was laughing hysterically, mostly at the face Castiel made when he had seen what he had made them do.

" _Gabriel!_ "

Obviously the sight had also broken more than a few brain cells in his brother's brain - another thing that amused Gabriel greatly. That was so worth drawing Dean out of the alternative universe preemptively. Especially since Castiel would most likely have stopped this whole thing, had he not exited this possibility himself.

"Could you stop laughing for a moment?"

Obviously the first brain freeze had stopped, since Castiel was actually able to form full sentences once again. Though Gabriel couldn't withstand temptation and gave his brother the best puppy eyes.

"What, I didn't do anything! It was just a random possibility of how things could have turned out!"

At Castiel's alarmed gaze, he broke down again and virtually shook from the force of his own laughter.

"You should have seen your face, Cas. Okay, I was just joking, I made up that one myself for my amusement. But you have to admit, it was kind of funny."

Castiel's expression didn't change and it told him perfectly well that, no, he hadn't found it funny. Not at all.

Gabriel sighed, still feeling laughter bubbling in him.

"Oh, you just have no sense of humor."

\--

"Oh my god, I kissed Cas!"

Dean was still shocked from the reality he had just gotten out of and shuddered exaggeratedly, this somehow worse than the feeling of Sam's lips on his own from before. Sam chuckled lightly from the other side of the room and the sound sent a wave of heat up his spine.

"Well, it does seem like Gabriel wants us to experience everything."

Dean grimaced, not understanding how Sam could find that funny.

"Yeah, but that was...Cas!"

\--

"I would take offense, dear brother", Gabriel remarked casually, laughter still in his voice. Castiel didn't answer him, he just kind of glared.

\--

"Yes, well, would you rather it had been the two of us again?"

The words slipped out before Sam could even attempt to control his mouth. He bit his lips afterward because he hadn't meant to actually say that, but that didn't change the fact that he had.

Any hope of Dean miraculously not understanding went out the window when he froze as well, then forced a laugh. Yeah, definitely too soon to joke about it. Dean being Dean played into it anyway, of course.

"No, sorry, Sam. You know how it is, brothers and all that."

That left them in an uncomfortable silence, which stretched until the both of them were frantically thinking of a topic they could bring up instead of this minefield.

They went back to almost-small talk, avoiding each other's eyes, even while their minds were reeling.

"So, how many more do you think there are? There can't actually be that many possibilities, can there?"

Sam almost choked on his tongue at the dry laugh that he couldn't swallow down.

"Dean, if those really are possible outcomes? There have to be millions of those! Every choice we ever made, every choice our dad made, the demons, everything! Millions!"

That shut Dean up and made him conscious of how dire the situation was. Shit, there really were that many possibilities. Among them things he didn't even want to imagine. Shit.

"Well," he said dryly after a few more moments of hoping that there wouldn't be millions of doors to go through. "we better go ahead, then."

Sam sighed and followed him when he went ahead, trying to instill as much confidence into his gait as he possibly could.

The following few universes were pretty boring. They lived through various ways hunting trips could have turned out. Victims dying or not dying, monsters hurtingkillingliving for a longer time than they had. It was tragic, sure, but it was life. And it wasn't real, anyway. Not to them, not for a long span of time, at least.

However, even that way of seeing things didn't make anything easier for them when they finally got into a universe where not everything was the way it had always been. Obviously Gabriel had gotten back his inspiration, because the next time they came into a new universe? Dean was in hell and Sam was running himself into the ground.

Sam could only hope that Dean didn't actually have to experience what this Dean had to go through, because having to go to hell once more? He would kill Gabriel if the angel actually did that to his brother.

Only Dean wasn't in the same universe this time around. Gabriel had decided to mix things up a bit once again, even though neither of the two brothers knew that. Because when Dean opened his eyes, he was alone, and he knew what this world's him knew as well.

Sam was still dead, the demon having refused to make a deal with him, claiming that having Sam dead would spice things up in hell for some time.

He was obviously not dumb enough to try to resurrect his brother, because zombies could be a bitch and anyway, having a zombie brother? Not cool.

So he was trying to hold on, still hoping for a miracle, even though Castiel, who had appeared about two months after Sam's death, had told him there was no way anything like that would happen. Apparently, Sam had also not stuck around but gone straight to heaven.

Even though he was glad that his brother had gone there and not downstairs to hell, he still felt as if he was being burnt alive, it hurt so much. Every morning he awoke, he still thought he would hear Sam snoring quietly in the bed next to him, or hear him shower, or just be able to see a piece of paper where Sam had written that he was just getting coffee and would be back soon.

It never happened and he really, really hated God, even though the guy wasn't in heaven, as far as Castiel had let slip when he'd told the angel about his feelings on the situation. Though, how smart of a move it had been to tell an angel of the Lord that he didn't like his boss, he didn't know. Probably not very.

However, Sam wasn't here, so he pretty much hated everyone anyway.

Bobby had tried to talk to him after he had spoken with the demon. He'd tried to tell Dean that he had to let go, and even though Dean knew that Bobby had felt a big loss himself when his wife had died, he couldn't imagine the hurt would fade anytime soon.

Because Sam was gone and apparently he wasn't coming back, no matter if he prayed or cursed or drank or played the nice big brother – without a brother.

He was lost and he hated it; he wanted his brother, he wanted Sammy. 


	5. Chapter 4

**  
**

**Chapter 4**

 **  
**

Coming back this time felt like a physical punch and for a moment he thought that he was still in the reality into which he had just been zapped. Seeing Sam - Sammy - was like everything he had just spent hours wishing for coming true and - still in the mindset of the Dean he should just have left behind – he pretty much flew at Sam and hugged the living daylights out of him.

Sam, obviously surprised, patted his back first a bit awkwardly, then sighed and really hugged him back.

Dean felt like he should keep Sammy with him forever, only there was really no reason for him to feel that, since what he had seen minutes ago hadn't been real for him and shouldn't mean anything. Only, of all the universes they had seen until now, of all the possibilities that they'd experienced, this one had been the one he could have actually happened. Had the demon really not wanted to make the deal, had Dean really been refused...

He still didn't regret his choice to go to hell for his brother since he'd gotten to see him again. And eternal damnation didn't seem like that bad of a deal when he thought of the other options. Especially after he'd just seen one of the alternatives, and considering how that universe's version of himself had felt, it hadn't been much of a step up from eternal damnation anyway.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked cautiously after a few more moments and Dean made himself let go of his brother. Really, he was kind of embarrassed at himself, all the while still not hating that he had gotten to hug his brother. It didn't count as a chick flick moment anyway, since he hadn’t been himself when he had come back, still affected by his other Dean-self, whatever. It didn't count.

He nodded, smiling, albeit not as broadly as he would have liked. "Yeah. Just, you know. You kinda died in that one."

Well, that was certainly one way of disclosing information, Sam thought dryly and patted his brother's shoulder awkwardly, trying to do...something, really, because he really didn't know what to say in reaction to something like that.

Dean snorted and shook his hand off. "Dude, I just...tripped. No need to get all handsy on me."

And there was his Dean again. Sam's thoughts were kind of split; on the one hand glad that apparently Dean had been able to catch himself again so soon after having been thrown for a loop, and on the other hand disappointed that he couldn't get a hug again. Really, it sucked to only have hugs when one of them had died and come back to life. It made Sam associate it with not-so-pleasant situations, which, in turn, counteracted the pleasant warmth in his belly in those moments.

"Anyway, I guess yours was all pleasant - let's go and love everyone?" Dean asked sarcastically and Sam let him deflect interest from himself. If that was what made his brother happy, he could give him that much. However, he went with the truth and shook his head.

"You were in hell, actually. I pretty much ran myself into the ground trying to look into a possibility of getting you out and hunting my fair share at the same time."

Dean growled at that, momentarily forgetting what he had lived through in his own universe and getting all protective.

"I'm so going to kill Gabriel when this is over," he grumbled murderously and Sam trotted behind him, nodding lightly.

"Just what I said."

\--

"Don't you think it's enough?" Castiel asked cautiously, looking at Gabriel who was watching the happenings with a distinct look of glee on his face. That seldom was a good sign.

That thought turned out to be true when Gabriel shrugged, grinning slightly.

"Oh, I think they could stand two or three more universes each..." he thought out loud and Castiel thought about interfering, in fact said a few, hesitating words of what he hoped was discouragement.

"But they have already been through so much-"

"Exactly," Gabriel interrupted him gleefully. "So one or two more shouldn't be a problem, should they?

\--

"Even more doors?" Dean asked with a note of dread in his voice. Sam sighed, feeling tired of this himself.

"Oh, come on. It's enough, we've seen enough," he said loudly, looking at the ceiling as if that was the place in which Gabriel was located. Who knew, maybe he was.

"We still don't know what he wants from us," Dean murmured in front of him and Sam glared at his brother's neck.

"Yeah, go on, why don't you? Just tell him why he should not let us out."

That was enough to have Dean pitch a small fit, apparently at the end of the rope and all his nerves.

"Yeah, well, it's not as if he'll let us out of here anyway, is it? We'll probably be in here until...oh, I don't know, maybe eternity? Who knows what time is like in here anyway! Great, maybe we'll stay here forever, wandering through this thing until we fall over from... something! Or we'll just lie down to _die_!"

He shouted the last part and was breathing hard; Sam looking at him with an eyebrow hitched up and arms crossed.

"You done?" he asked calmly and Dean felt a bit ridiculous. Blushing lightly - and he would never admit to it - he nodded, trying his best to act as if he hadn't just had a high-class meltdown.

"Good. Because then let me tell you, Gabriel doesn't do something just for fun, with no way out, at least not when it concerns us. Because the last two times he did this? The first one he wanted to show me how we were each other's weakness, and the second time he wanted to get us to say yes to being vessels. So obviously, he wants something from us this time too. We might not have an idea of what it is yet, but we _will_ find out. And Castiel will probably look for us at some point, you were right about that. It's not like we can just vanish from the face of the earth, after all we are kind of the point the apocalypse revolves around."

Dean laughed a short, not really amused laugh at that, but it was enough to let out the tension that had him in its fangs since the first universe he'd visited.

Smiling slightly at Sam, he nodded softly. "Thanks."

He got a smile in return. "Anytime.”

\--

"How about you tell them what you want from them?"

"..."

"What do you even want?"

"..."

"Oh no. Gabriel, let them out. Now."

"No. I might still find a reason for this! Give me a chance to think!"

\--

"Now...I guess we have to, huh?” Sam asked, looking at the long row of doors and Dean snorted.

"Well, we could try sitting in front of them and just hoping that Gabriel will get bored with us and let us through anyway..."

The possibility (that wasn't _really_ a possibility) got Sam to look at him with a ridiculous amount of hope.

"Think we could try that out? I'm not in the mood for trying to get to know another reality anyway..."

"Well, I could always go..." Dean told him and Sam looked at him as if he had just told him to eat little kitties.

"No, you won't. It's my turn. And I'll go, just...not now."

Well, if he really wanted to...

They sat down next to the door, the sides of their bodies touching. Dean felt strangely like heat was radiating from the place where they were pressed against each other, only able to catch himself when Sam started talking.

“God, I really don’t want to do this anymore…” Sam said thoughtfully, staring up at the nondescript ceiling.

Dean snorted.

"Way to read my thoughts," he said, just sitting there and enjoying the way he could feel Sam next to him, the pressure of skin against skin telling him that Sammy was, in fact, very much alive. Even so, the feeling of losing his brother was still deeply ingrained in his bones. It should probably worry him that one day of reliving everything felt almost worse than the real deal had. Where he'd gone, there had actually been no hope for Sam to come back.

He was glad that things hadn't turned out like that for them.

"Think I should look at what's behind this door?" Sam asked and Dean shrugged. If he had his way, they'd stay like this, sitting on the cold concrete floor until Castiel or whoever else came and got them out. However, that was very much not possible, because Winchesters didn't just sit around, waiting to be rescued, so fuck that.

"Yeah, okay."

Imagine the surprise when he got sucked into the door as well. Well, fuck.

Sitting in a chair like the ones that were normally in a hospital waiting room – hard and uncomfortable for long periods of time – kinda surprised him. Especially since he had waited for something drastic or terrible or something. It was...weird, really. Only, then this Dean started to think and Dean was pushed back.

Apparently, Sam was just being born. At least, he would be Sam if it was actually a boy. Which it would be. Probably. Most likely. Maybe.

He sat there, legs not reaching to the floor. But he was a big boy, big enough to be little Sammy's - because it would be Sammy, he had already called him Sammy and his mom had told him it would be Sammy - big brother, saving him from the monsters in the cupboards. Of course Dad always said there weren't any, but his mom looked in there when he told her to, so he kinda felt like his mom was the monster fighter in his family. That was okay, because his mommy was great.

He would gladly look into little Sammy's dressers if he was afraid of monsters too. Especially if his mom was standing next to him - which she had said she would, when he had asked her.

The doctor came and called their name and his dad jumped from his seat, practically vibrating. Dean wrinkled his nose and jumped from his seat as well. That probably meant that Sammy was here.

The doctor said something and his daddy paled, but nodded slowly. Dean looked at his dad with confusion in his eyes, because he looked a bit sick and he didn't want his daddy to be sick right now. He wanted to go look for Sammy.

Taking his father's fingers in his little hands, Dean told him so. "Come on, daddy, let's go see Sammy!" he wheedled and the doctor looked at him now. The look in the man's eyes was funny, like he wanted to seem sad but it wasn't really sad. It wasn't happy either, though.

When the doctor knelt down, Dean pressed closer to his daddy, because he didn't think he liked the man. He smelt funny and had a strange look in his eyes.

"You know that sometimes things happen, little one?" he asked quietly and Dean didn't like his tone either. "You know, accidents?"

He nodded fearfully, then peeked up at his father, hoping to be allowed to get away from the creepy man. Dean's dad was still staring into the air though, and he didn't understand what was so interesting about it.

"Your brother had an accident," the doctor started and suddenly Dean liked him even less.

"Is he okay?" he asked fearfully, hoping that Sammy wasn't hurt. The doctor's eyes went funny again, scrunching up a bit, glimmering lightly.

"Your brother went away, there were problems with him coming out of your mom's belly. She will be okay, though."

It took a few moments until Dean knew what the doctor was saying and his eyes went big when he understood.

“Sammy went to heaven?” he gasped and finally his dad did something, even if it was just lifting him up into his arms. The doctor followed them up though and still looked at him.

“Yes, you could say that,” he agreed, then a tiny grin came over his lips and his eyes glared a poisonous yellow for a moment.

Dean screamed.

He was taking a deep breath, when the whole surrounding him changed another time and he was thrown into another universe without even getting the chance to go back to the labyrinth first. That alone threw him for a loop, and the fact that he ended up on some sort of big battlefield didn’t make things any easier on him.

Also, there was Sam next to him; apparently, they were fighting back to back. It actually felt right, as opposed to many of the universes he had seen until then.

“You think we have any chance of getting out of here alive?” he asked Sam, seriously curious as to what he thought. Sam in turn looked at him with dry amusement in his eyes and a wry grin on his lips. He felt a curious warmth in his belly and who cared that it was wrong, this was most likely a suicide mission anyway. In fact, both of them had known that when they had gone into this. But at least they were together.

“No, I really don’t think so. But you know what? Who cares.”

There was a twinkle in Sam’s eyes and Dean guessed he had given up on hoping for this to end well for the world, too, and was just enjoying the moment – the fact that he had never enjoyed killing off random evil before didn’t seem to deter his brother.

Dean felt warmth blooming in his belly but he decided to just enjoy it as long as he still could. And if everything went to hell, they would still go down together.

Knowing that felt good, against all the odds.

\--

“Woah.”

That had come from Sam, and Dean had to agree. They were really standing back to back, only now they were back in the maze. Falling back against each other, they sunk to the floor, still feeling the phantom-adrenaline cursing through their bodies.

“That wasn’t funny,” Dean glared at the ceiling, only to be thwarted by his brother, when Sam snorted softly.

“Well, sorry to disagree with you, Dean, but it really kind of was.”

Dean didn’t say anything to that, not because he was angry with his brother for thinking it, but because he was actually so glad to feel him against his back, warmth pooling in the areas where their skin touched. He knew that there was probably something wrong with the way the warmth seemed to gradually move towards lower areas in his body, but in that moment he couldn’t actually care less.

Considering he had just lived through yet another version of life without his brother, then the last battle against what was probably the apocalypse, he supposed he was allowed to wallow a bit in the nearness of his brother, even if it was the wrong kind of wallowing.

Sam didn’t seem to be too opposed to it either, considering he didn’t move away but actually turned a bit into him so they were even closer.

And one could ask them how it happened, but for one moment their lips bumped together softly, just for a moment. It could have been a peck between two children, had they not been two grown men.

Both of them became aware of what they had just done at the same time, rearing back and looking at each other with big eyes.

And then everything around them fell away.

\--

“Have you finally made up your mind as to what you wanted to accomplish with this in the first place?” Castiel asked, disapproving tone in his voice.

Gabriel didn’t pay too much attention to him and finally Castiel gave up and looked at what was transfixing his brother like that.

Well, he wouldn’t have expected to see the Winchester brothers pecking each other’s lips. Castiel sighed. Oh well.

“They kissed and made up, Gabriel. Can you please let them go now?”

There was a mischievous grin on his brother’s lips when he nodded delightedly, like the cat that got the canary.

“Yeah, of course. Seems like they knew what I wanted better than even I did.”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel disappeared from Gabriel’s little home and Gabriel himself started 'packing up’ because he did have another place to be now. Right now, going with his brother to help him look for their Father seemed like a pretty good idea.

Even if it was only so he could see the Winchesters more often and poke fun at them a bit.

Because really, expecting them to kiss and make up? Them actually doing it? He couldn’t have planned it better himself.

\--

When the strangely psychedelic motion of time and space around them finally started to calm down, they were in the motel room they had disappeared from in the beginning.

Sam snorted, shaking his head slightly.

“Wanna bet that Gabriel wanted to show off with that?”

Dean laughed lightly, glad that apparently they had moved past the kiss – peck – without even trying to talk about it. Truth be told, he didn’t even know if he wanted to think about it in more depth. His mind was still swirling with all the possibilities he had experienced in rapid succession, and the mess of emotions he was going through didn’t make his thought process any more clear.

“Yeah, he most likely just wanted to show off for a bit,” he agreed wholeheartedly, and while it was a little late in coming, Sam didn't seem to notice.

They sat down on their beds, but awkward silence didn’t even get the chance to set in, because as soon as they both closed their mouths, Castiel appeared with a thoroughly chastised expression.

“I’m very sorry for what Gabriel did, but he was very adamant about not being interrupted.”

Both Sam and Dean stared at him, though it was Dean who chose to say something.

“What do you mean, he was _adamant about not being interrupted_?”

Because if it meant what he thought it meant, there would be hell to pay. Castiel didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, because he went on carelessly.

“Well, I did ask him to stop, but he really didn’t want to, and he said it would improve your relationship. Considering he's been living among humans for longer than I have been, I chose to believe him.”

Dean could only stare and Sam sputtered slightly, finding his words only after a few seconds of unintelligible sounds.

“You mean you were with him the _whole_ time?”

“Well, not the whole time. I arrived a few moments after he had started,” Castiel explained patiently, tone condescending – though Sam suspected he had wanted to attempt to make it seem comforting – as if it made anything about the situation better.

Again there were a few moments of silence after his admission. Then, Dean growled.

“You mean you could have gotten us out of there at any point? You just decided to not do it? Seriously, Cas, you really have so much to learn, it's not even funny.”

Cocking his head to the side curiously, Castiel regarded him.

“Why? Was my assumption about Gabriel wrong?”

“Of course you weren’t wrong,” another voice said from a corner of the room, causing Dean and Sam to jump in surprise. Then Sam had to hold Dean back, because apparently his brother was very keen on wringing Gabriel’s neck, and Sam thought that trying to threaten an archangel would probably not go over well – even if he could understand his brother's need to do so.

When Gabriel just kept looking at them with his small smirk of approval and the amusement on his face, Sam thought about changing his decision once again and letting Dean go ahead after all.

Gabriel, though, seemed to know what he was thinking (as well as Dean, probably) and raised his hands in surrender.

“Calm down, boys,” he said jokingly. “That was the last time, promise, but I wanted you to kiss and make up. You seem to be about to go past that, actually, but who cares about that.”

And just like that the problem was back in the room, timing its reappearance for when the angels both disappeared.

Dean growled, pacing on the floor and glaring at the place where Gabriel had stood just a moment ago.

“Stupid fucking arch-angels.”

For a few moments, Sam kept quiet, then cleared his throat lightly. Now that Gabriel had brought it up again, he had to voice his fears. Seeing his brother like this actually had him fear that Dean would run out of the room and never come back again – or fuck all the willing women he could find in an attempt to get back what he thought he had lost of his manhood, or macho-self, or whatever. It would be typical.

“We're okay, right?” he asked hesitantly, feeling the strange need to touch his brother. Instead of going for the back of his neck or cheek, as his brain was stupidly suggesting, though, he just touched his hand lightly.

There was a slight tremble that he could feel before Dean pulled back his hand, glaring at him, though Sam saw the nervousness and general uneasiness behind his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean answered, laughing loudly, trying to cover up that he wasn't as sure about the situation as he attempted to pretend. Thin lines of stress appeared around his eyes, straining as he tried for one of his usually careless smiles. “Why, Sammy, why wouldn't we be?”

–

His insides were crawling, like he was going to be sick at any moment, and his dry question fell flat. Sam frowned and Dean felt his stomach drop when Sam actually took a step in his direction. The step Dean took back was unintentional, and his mind was in a riot while his body operated solely on instinct.

And his instinct was telling him that it was wrong to want to be closer to Sam right now – or at any time, really. Especially the way his body strained to be close to his brother.

“Oh, that's _okay_ , huh?” Sam asked and while he sounded like he was trying for careless, he didn’t succeed. Instead, he just sounded bitter.

It took Dean a moment to understand what he was referring to, and when he did, a startled laugh was forced out of him.

“Well, what'd you expect?” Dean shook his head, snorting. “It's as okay as it gets. We can't just come back from... _that_.” Unwanted feelings swamped him for a moment, lips tingling at the reminder of how Sam's lips had felt against his and he shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought.

Maybe if he told himself that it didn't matter for long enough, it would actually become true.

Talking over Sam, ignoring his words, Dean tried not to notice the swirling emotions and impressions in his head, offering him various feelings he had experienced during his visits to the other lives, as well as countless things he had done or seen.

“Just leave it be, it was just Gabriel. There's nothing to talk about.”

He ignored Sam's incredulous expression, as well as the continued aborted tries to get a word in while Dean ignored him and rummaged in his duffel for a clean shirt.

“Dean-” Sam started again, and he groaned, rolling his eyes as he stripped his shirt. Even while he could feel Sam's eyes traveling over his body, heat spreading at the knowledge that Sam was ogling him, Dean repressed the want trying to press to the forefront of his mind.

“Shut it, Sam. We'll work through this.”

“But I don't _want_ to work through it!”

“Yes, you fucking want to!” Dean shouted, practically ripping the clean shirt over his head, glaring and ignoring Sam's crestfallen expression even as it made him want to bundle Sam up and kiss- “This is not healthy and you know it! So I'm going to go out now and we'll do our best to forget everything that happened and that's it!”

“But Dean-”

As quick as the fury had been to take over his mind, as quick it vanished again, leaving him exhausted and tired. “Why can't you just leave it?”

Sam paused and for a moment Dean thought that was it. He wouldn't say the words and they would be able to let it go, in the end. But of course Sam had to force the words through his lips, even while it looked as if it hurt him to say them. “Because I want to have this.”

Another pause, then Dean shook his head. “I'm sorry, Sam. But this is something I can't give you.”

So what if he was taking the easy way out. So what if his body and his heart screamed at him to stay – and didn't it feel mushy to even _think_ that. Sam's expression made his disbelief, his disappointment, clear. Dean resented himself for forcing this on Sam, but he wouldn't hurt his brother by giving in, he wouldn't destroy Sam's last chance of being even remotely normal.

And if Sam never talked to him again, well, Dean deserved it for even considering this thing between them.

After that conclusion, it was almost easy to leave and try to find a woman and a bed for the rest of the night, leaving Sam to stare after him in incredulous disbelief.

The kiss, the feelings wouldn't change anything between them. And if he just told it to himself often enough, he would maybe believe it himself. It might even come true.

  


  
[The End]

[Leave a comment.](http://calmena.livejournal.com/26418.html?mode=reply)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Various temporary character deaths, spoilers up to and including 5x8, questionable consent, not a happy ending


End file.
